There are no shadows in the dark
by vero3110
Summary: This story is supposed to take place a couple of days after Elizabeth’s service. What happened with the Terra Prime investigations? What were their findings? What did appear when they threw some light on it?
1. Chapter 1

There Are No Shadows in the Dark

Genre: Trip/T'Pol Romance, Action (a little bit)

Disclaimer: Star Trek Enterprise and associated characters are the property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

I.-

The shuttlepod landed about 50 meters away from Orpheus – Paxton's mining colony. Travis kept looking at the facility even after they touched down on the dusty surface. Its design had something different about it that he couldn't pinpoint. iPaxton's father must have had an amazing engineering background to build a warp capable mining facility all those years ago/i he thought. He wondered how long it would take to gather enough evidence to put Paxton and the other Terra Primers in jail for good.

He got distracted when Commander Rossi asked him if he had seen something like this before. "No, not really," Travis answered, while still looking at the embedded nacelles of Paxton's creation. "Have you, Commander?" he returned, looking at Rossi, who was sitting next to Lieutenant Reed.

Rossi studied Travis as the helmsman admired the mining facility, and thought to himself that the ensign was intuitively identifying the alien design that was incorporated in it. He looked out through the shuttlepod viewport and said, "No…the closest thing I've seen was an old oil rigging platform that houses a museum now."

_iHis o's sound strange. Where's his accent from? I must ask Hoshi,_ Malcolm thought.He was staring at them while they chatted and admired the building. He wasn't comfortable with Rossi. The guy was always observing everything and everyone, asking questions, making notes on his pad. _Quite thorough actually_ he thought to himself. _Well, the chap is a Starfleet Intelligence officer_, was his next thought.

The beeping that signaled that the door could be opened, took everybody out of their musings and they prepared to leave the shuttle.

"I'll be back with the shuttle at the end of the day, Commander... Lieutenant," Travis nodded at each of them in turn as they stood up. Malcolm nodded acknowledging Travis' statement.

Commander Rossi smiled at the helmsman politely, "There is no need to return for me, Ensign. I'm staying for the night."

"Sir?" asked Malcolm in puzzlement.

"I want to see how it was for these people to sleep, cook, eat…everyday tasks while staying here, Lieutenant," Rossi told Reed. Malcolm nodded, still looking at the intelligence officer with a perplexed expression. "We'll meet up with you later, Ensign," he told Travis with his eyes still fixed on the commander.

While walking towards Terra Prime's facility, Malcolm wondered if there was something there that had been missed. Perhaps Rossi thought there was.

"What do you intend to find, Commander?" he asked, his voice distorted by the breathing mask he wore.

Rossi turned to look at him and tripped over some rocks. "Mierda," he said while getting his footing again. He looked thoughtfully at his feet for a moment before speaking. "Do you have books at your quarters, pictures, personal items, Lieutenant?" the Intelligence officer asked him. He didn't wait for Malcolm's answer. "What do you think these things would say about you?" was his next question.

"I believe the crew quarters were searched and everything found was tagged and recorded," Malcolm told him, a little bit confused.

"That's right…" Rossi told him. "But I still want to check it out myself." The Commander smiled and entered the code to open the mining's colony outer door.

II.-

Trip studied himself in his bathroom mirror. _No dark circles today_, he thought. He scratched his chin. The stubble there was itching. _I should have shaved._

He felt better, still sad but better. The sensation of having been living in a movie was gone, mostly, but everything else was much the same.

He stared at his reflection. It was his face in the mirror, but the person looking back at him was not the same person as the one who'd stared back at him from the mirror last week, or even twenty four hours ago. The events that had happened since had changed his life. Were they for good or for ill? He had no way of knowing.

_What am I gonna do?_ he asked himself. He knew what his choices were. He could refuse to change. He could try to put everything back the way he thought it was supposed to be... the status quo... the comfortable sameness of the way things had always been. Or he could mourn his losses and move on, only he wasn't even certain at this point exactly what he'd lost... or perhaps gained. He could go with the flow and accept what life offered, despite the fact that the prospect terrified him more than anything. _Maybe it's for the best_ he mused. He was deep in thought when he heard the captain's voice calling for him.

"Trip here, Cap'n," he answered.

Archer's voice was curt. "I know you're off duty, but I need you in my ready room ASAP."

"I'll be there in 10 minutes, Cap'n."

"Good, Archer out."

On his way to the bridge, Trip thought about changes, and how he had always adapted to them. _Not much of a life time planner, but a year to year basic kinda guy, I guess, _he told himself ruefully. _You do what you think is best, and sometimes when that's not enough, you do what you have to _he thought. When he got to the bridge, Malcolm, Travis and Hoshi weren't there. He was saluted by one of the new ensigns who was acting as Communications Officer. "They're waiting for you, sir," Trip heard him say.

"Who?" asked Trip, a little confused.

"The Captain, Dr. Phlox and Commander T'Pol, sir," he answered. Trip nodded at him, his eyebrows still raised, and walked towards the ready room.

"Sorry I'm late, Cap'n," he said apologetically as soon as he entered.

"Don't worry Trip, T'Pol just got here too," Archer said.

"Take a seat, Commander," Phlox invited. Trip took the seat next to T'Pol. She looked drawn and tired. He turned and smiled hesitantly at her. "Mornin'," he told her. She just nodded back at him with a stoic expression.

"Last night, Starfleet Intelligence accessed part of the records from the Terra Prime genetics lab…" Archer said. Phlox's expression was somber, not a sight that Trip enjoyed. "The investigation indicates that genetic material from every member of the senior staff was stolen before we left on our way to the Expanse," he said.

"Do we know how this was possible?" asked T'Pol.

"Unfortunately not. The investigation is still in progress regarding this issue. Hoshi is working with the investigating team to decrypt the data. There're some advances but it's going to take some time," said Archer. _He doesn't sound optimistic_, she thought.

"Has the remaining genetic material been located?" was her next question.

"Not yet. The records that were accessed didn't contain that information, but we do know that it was cryogenically stored after finishing the last cloning process. It seems that Susan Khouri may have destroyed it just before getting to us," answered Archer.

"How do we know for certain that all the senior staff was involved, then?" she inquired again.

"They tested all of us for compatibility," said Phlox.

"All of us?" asked Trip.

"Let me explain, Commanders, and then I'll answer your questions," Phlox told them grimly.

"Sorry, Doc…I...never mind. Go ahead," Trip blurted out. T'Pol just nodded, her expression unchanged.

They looked as opposite as two people could be. She was composed and unmoved. He was confused and agitated. But inside they weren't all that different. Both of them were worried about the effect this news would have on the other, and on them together.

"The compatibility tests were designed to simplify the biochemistry issues involved in the cloning process. I'm not going into details here, but you can access these records in our database if you're interested," Phlox said, looking at T'Pol. She nodded in agreement. Then he addressed Trip. "The results indicated that you, Commander, were the human male with better biochemical compatibility with T'Pol's. Even better than my biochemical compatibility level with Hoshi," Phlox added.

"You mean… it was luck that we ended being Elizabeth's parents?" asked Trip.

"I wouldn't call it luck, Commander," Phlox answered grimly.

Trip looked back at him, and then his eyes went to the floor. He shook his head. "Go on, Doctor," he said wryly.

"The captain mentioned a last cloning process," said T'Pol, a question implied by her tone. Phlox had seen her expression before, one night while having tea at her quarters surrounded by debris from Azati Prime. She'd looked younger, vulnerable, just like she looked right now.

"That is correct, Commander. It took them time to obtain the results they expected. They recorded the results of 5 attempts of binary cloning processes during a 6 month period. The first four attempts failed, but the last one produced 3 cloned embryos." Phlox stopped and waited for the information to sink in.

Archer's expression was dark and pained. Trip closed his eyes and covered them with his right hand before turning and looking at T'Pol. Her eyes betrayed her, and he knew she was as affected as he was. Still looking at her, with a slow and steady voice Trip asked, "What happened to…the others?"

"None of them survived, Commander. One of them was not viable so it wasn't carried to term and the other one died during the first trimester of the gestational period." Trip was stunned, and turned to look at Phlox. He was speechless. T'Pol couldn't talk either; she knew her voice would crack.

"Only Elizabeth survived, Trip," Archer said.

_Survived? She didn't survive,_ Trip's mind returned. He looked back at Archer as his face turned red in rage. "I don't…how could…I should have beaten the crap out of Paxton!" The anger in Trip's voice was evident to everybody in the room.

"Maybe you should have, Commander," said Phlox.

Trip and T'Pol were both looking at the stars through the viewport. They stood unmoving and in silence for a whole minute before T'Pol's voice brought both of them back to the Captain's ready room.

"Have the facilities where these procedures were carried out been located?" she asked.

"We believe so. The team found a medical facility, fully equipped for genetic manipulation procedures, located in the second subterranean level of the mining complex. There's a team of Starfleet Intelligence officers and scientists searching the place as we speak," said Archer.

"There's no certainty that the genetic material and the non viable embryo were destroyed, then?" T'Pol added.

"No, but the investigation indicates that the genetic experimentation wasn't approved by Terra Prime's operatives on Earth. It was Paxton's personal endeavor. So we believe there was only one laboratory," Archer explained.

"Captain, I would like to join the investigation party at the laboratory," T'Pol said.

"That won't be possible…" Archer was saying while Trip interrupted him.

"Captain, come on…"

Archer stopped him with a raised hand. "I'm sorry Trip. I know…" He paused at Trip's outraged expression, and then sighed. "No, I don't know how you feel. But Phlox is going to join the team shortly. He and Malcolm will keep us updated on an hourly basis – if necessary – while the investigation takes place," Archer's words were final.

Trip's eyes were fixed on Archer – his anger clear in them. He knew the captain well enough to realize that his mind was set in this issue. Arguing would be useless. The last four years had given him enough experience to learn when to shut up and how to pick which battles to fight. This one undoubtly would be a lost cause. Trip nodded and lowered his eyes.

"There's something else," said Phlox. All of them turned to look at him. "I told you, Commander, that there was a flaw in the cloning process, but I was incorrect," Phlox told Trip.

"What do you mean?" Trip asked, sadness evident on his face.

"The information I have reviewed indicates that the binary cloning process was designed to produce embryos with a defect in their immunological system that would cause death of the child during the first year. This indicates deep knowledge of both Vulcan and Human immunological systems, and extremely advanced genetic manipulation techniques," Phlox clarified.

"She never had a chance, did she?" Trip said more to himself than to the doctor.

"I'm afraid not," said Phlox.

T'Pol looked at Trip, and then she turned to Phlox. "Do we know how Paxton's scientists learned these extremely advanced genetic techniques you mentioned?" she asked.

Archer shook his head. "We have no idea, and Paxton isn't telling us anything," he was saying when the communications system sounded.

"Reed to Dr. Phlox." There was some static around Malcolm's voice but nobody doubted it was the lieutenant.

"Malcolm, how's everything going down there? Any news?" Archer interrupted Phlox before he could answer.

"No sir. But I haven't spoken to Hoshi yet." There was a pause until Malcolm continued. "Captain? I was looking for Dr. Phlox."

"Lieutenant, I'm right here. What can I do for you?" Phlox said through the intercom.

"Commander Rossi asked if you could review some medical … you earlier," Malcolm's voice wasn't clear enough because of the static.

"Sorry, Malcolm. We didn't hear the last part clearly. Can you repeat?" Archer said.

"Medical records, sir. The Commander sent some medical records the team found and wants Phlox to review them ASAP. Actually, Doctor, the team here already gave their interpretation but…well, sir; I recommended a second opinion." This time his voice sounded as clearly as if he were at his station on the bridge.

"Please tell the Commander that I'm on my way to Sickbay and I'll send my report as soon as I finish it," Phlox said while standing up.

"I'm sorry, Commanders, Captain, but I have to leave. Lieutenant Reed and Commander Rossi are waiting for me," Phlox said while moving towards the door. Archer gave him a brief nod of dismissal as he left.

"Commander Rossi?" Trip asked.

Archer took a pad from the table in front of him and gave it to T'Pol. "It contains the last reports from the teams that have been searching the mining colony," he said. "Starfleet Intelligence assigned one of their officers as a liaison between us and their teams. His file is on the pad, too," Archer continued. T'Pol switched the pad on and started screening its content.

"Why is Starfleet Intelligence leading this Investigation and not Starfleet Security?" asked Trip.

"I'll get to that, Trip…Malcolm is there anything else we can do for you?" Archer asked.

"No sir. Reed out."

Archer noted that the noise over the comm disappeared just as, at the corner of his eye, the comm system's light went off. He was looking at Trip and T'Pol. They were both seated in front of him next to each other. He had been studying them most of the time since they arrived. Trip looked exhausted. _Probably hadn't slept much lately_, he thought. And T'Pol, she was paler than usual and there was something about her that wasn't quite right…and then he noticed it. Her shoulders were sagging a little; her posture mimicked Trip's.

"Commander Rossi is an expert in xenophobia and sects. That's why he was assigned to this investigation….," Archer continued. Trip's eyes narrowed. "Since when does Starfleet have behavioral scientists as officers?" he asked.

At that moment, T'Pol looked at him and said, "Since the Xindi attack, apparently."

"You know him?" Archer asked him. Trip shook his head and then looked at T'Pol. She had been reading Rossi's file. That's why Trip knew about his background.

Archer, confused, looked at both of them and kept going. "Starfleet believes that Paxton had access to alien medical and technical aid…Let me finish, Trip," he told him while Tucker was about to speak again. "The mining colony has embedded circular nacelles that were updated 2 years ago. We didn't develop those upgrades…" At this point Archer massaged his eyebrows and forehead. He hadn't slept more than 2 hours the night before, and he needed more coffee, but he had to tell them everything. "Earth geneticists never had access to decoded Vulcan DNA. We don't know how Paxton got it." Tiredness showed on Archer's face more than ever. He was looking at T'Pol, who was still reading the pad, her face hidden from both Archer and Trip. She gave the pad to Trip and looked at the captain.

"That is correct. The Vulcan Science Directorate decided not to share that knowledge with Earth scientists after first contact was made. Your regulations against genetic manipulation prevented it."

Trip was looking at her while he said, "You mean that some aliens helped them?...It doesn't make any sense. Why would someone willingly aid people that would most certainly turn against them? " At this point he stopped and looked at Archer. "We don't have a clue who these aliens are, do we?"

Archer shook his head. "The investigation team believes that Paxton didn't know it was alien technology. He got it through a third party who hasn't been identified yet."

The monitor beeped and the captain turned to look at it. While entering a couple of commands he continued. "Admiral Gardner informed me that Starfleet Intelligence would be leading the investigation when I got back from the memorial."

Trip was looking at him while he spoke, but not really seeing him. He sensed T'Pol's concern and how much effort it was taking her to keep her Vulcan composure. He turned to look at her while the captain kept talking.

"Ambassador Soval offered assistance to Starfleet Command, so one of your surveillance and intelligence vessels left from Vulcan last night," Archer said to T'Pol. "They will be helping us identify the alien technology from Paxton's facility, and as soon as we decode all their genetic research logs will try to help us identify the DNA decoding process and its origin."

Her expression changed subtly, but both men recognized what it was: surprise. Vulcans rarely offered free assistance, and rarely intervened in a situation like this one.

"Is this assistance common knowledge at Starfleet?" she asked the captain. Archer smiled at her before answering. "Actually, it isn't," he told them. "You do know your people, T'Pol…Why would they want to help us on the condition that their help be unacknowledged for what it really is?"

T'Pol looked at the captain and then at Trip with both of her eyebrows raised. She wasn't certain of the reasons behind the Vulcan government's offer of assistance.

"Come on. Just tell us what you think…an educated guess, as the captain likes to say," Trip reassuringly told her.

T'Pol turned to Archer. "With what official mission will the Vulcan ship be assigned while orbiting Mars?" she asked.

"Upgrading and re-configuring the security protocols of the Verteron array," Archer told her.

Her eyes turned to the viewport while she analyzed the information she had. While she did this, both Archer and Trip looked at her, waiting patiently. "Decoded Vulcan DNA is classified information…," she told them. "Who ever had access to it must either be a high ranking officer of our government or must have been someone able to break the Vulcan Science Directorate security protocols," she said. "I believe that the Vulcan Government doesn't know which option is correct."

"They want to keep it quiet until they know what's going on for real…" Trip said, interrupting her. She nodded. Captain Archer wasn't convinced. "Could be…but…" He shook his head. "We'll have to speak with Soval," he said. Both Trip and T'Pol nodded in agreement.

T'Pol felt some dizziness and she unfocused her eyes, trying to achieve a meditative state so she could calm herself. The white space wasn't surrounding her, she was looking at the stars that looked like big snow flakes in her sight. The dizziness disappeared and she noticed some hunger. Her need to meditate took precedence, though. She decided not to have breakfast today so she could go back to meditate as soon as the meeting ended. Trips voice brought her back to the ready room.

"So, how long are we gonna stay here, Cap'n?" asked Trip curiously. Archer shrugged.

"I've got no idea, Trip. It's up to the bigwigs at Starfleet at this point," he said helplessly. He grinned wryly. "Wanna go get coffee? I need an energy boost."

"You comin', T'Pol?" asked Trip. She blinked, and then turned her attention to the commander.

"I must meditate," she told him under her breath. Their eyes met in silent understanding. She then turned her attention to Archer, and said in a louder tone, "If you will excuse me, Captain. I will retire to my quarters if there's nothing else."

"Go ahead, I'll let you know as soon as I receive the next update on the investigation," Archer told her.

"I would rather it be sent to my quarters, I wish to meditate as long as possible," T'Pol said while standing up. Archer nodded. His eyes followed her thoughtfully as she left.

Trip kept staring at the door after T'Pol's departure. He knew she wasn't fine, but he wasn't certain how to help her, or even if she'd let him. Would some company be helpful? Or maybe letting her meditate on her own would be best for her. They had never discussed how Vulcans mourned, not even when T'Les died. _Maybe if I'm the one needing help…she's always tried to help me before_, he thought. When he turned to look at Archer, he noticed that the Captain had stood up and was looking at him.

"Coffee, remember?" Archer said.

"Yeah, I really need it... and I'm starving," Trip said, smiling. "Captain, I'd like to take a look at the circular nacelles you mentioned before," he said while moving towards the door.

Archer keyed the door open before answering. "Travis is reviewing the data that's been collected. He's at the Command Centre. I'm sure he'll be glad to have your help." Trip nodded gratefully, and they left the ready room on their way to the Mess Hall.


	2. Chapter 2

There Are No Shadows in the Dark

III.-

The smell of the herbal tea he was sipping was spicy and velvety. It brought memories of crowded kitchens and long after-meals chats. Happy images flooded his mind: his wives and daughters, his mother and father, his sons. i_The boys seldom stayed for those long summer evenings/i, _he remembered. The thoughts of family made him consider the commanders and how each of them was dealing with their loss. He was still saddened by the baby's death and very much perturbed by the discovery of the genetic manipulation she was subjected to. This remembrance made him end his reverie and return to the data files he was reviewing. He hadn't made much progress. There wasn't any reference on these files about the source of the Vulcan genome. The only piece of information he was checking was a genetic procedure referenced in one of the files.

The sound of the door opening distracted him from his perusal of the Denobulan Medical Database. He raised his head to find the ship's chief engineer standing there with a tired smile on his face.

"Commander, what can I do for you?" Phlox asked Trip.

"It's my shoulder, Doc. You told me to come today for a check up, remember?" Trip told him while getting closer to him.

i_The Commander smells like coffee/i,_ the doctor thought. Phlox wondered how much Trip had drunk during the last three days.

"Yes, of course. Please sit on a biobed, and we'll see if you can make do without that sling," the doctor said while approaching Trip. The blue light of the device glowed close to Trip's upper arm while Phlox scanned him, but Tucker wasn't interested in the results it would produce. His eyes were fixed on the monitor Phlox had been checking when he arrived.

"Have you found anything, Doc?"

"Well, you're healing nicely. I believe that you will recover full mobility in the next two to three days," Phlox told him while reading the scan results.

"Wha?… I meant about the data you're checking," clarified Trip.

Phlox looked at him, and his expression sobered. "Unfortunately not, Commander. These files were very similar to the rest that have been decoded so far. The only new fact that I'm checking is a gene deactivation technique called "Khoi" that I've never heard of before."

Trip nodded and massaged the back of his neck. His exhaustion showed plainly in his face and stance. "Have you been sleeping, Commander?" Phlox asked him, while changing the scanner settings and reading his vital signs.

"I'm fine, Doc," Trip told him, turning to look at him with an attempt at a reassuring smile. Phlox gazed back at him reprovingly and shook his head.

"If you need someone to talk to, Commander, I will be happy to help you," Phlox told him.

"I know, Doc. Thank you, but I'm…" Confusion was evident on his features. "It's weird how I feel…sometimes it's like not feeling at all, as if nothing had happened; and there are other times when I'm overwhelmed with everything." He shook his head as if clearing his mind.

"Sleep and rest will help you, Commander. But you have to rest and stay out of engineering for a few days," the doctor said. "Have you thought about taking some time off to visit Earth, your family maybe?"

Trip looked at his feet for a little while and then glanced back up at the doctor's face. "Actually I have, but I don't want to leave T'Pol alone…"

Phlox eyebrows rose a little. "I see. Have you spoken with her about your apprehension?" he asked Trip.

Trip's head hung down while he shook it. "I'm not sure if I'd be bothering or helping her," he mumbled. Phlox stood there looking at him without answering. "She's been meditating most of the time." Trip's eyes were still fixed on the floor. Then his head came up. "Doc? Do you know how Vulcans mourn?" Trip asked.

"I have no idea, Commander. However, I believe you should interrupt T'Pol's meditation to let her know that you are willing to stay with her if she agrees to it," Phlox told him while turning off his scanner.

"Thank you, Doc" Trip said while standing up. "If you find anything in those files you're checking…"

"Don't worry Commander. I'll inform you of my findings as soon as I finish my report," Phlox told him.

He returned to the monitor and sent a communication to the Interplanetary Medical Interchange Program inquiring about the "Khoi" technique. The message icon changed to a red key to show it was encrypted and then a green arrow appeared on its side to indicate that it was sent. Since Phlox had arrived on Earth and started using human systems and technology, it had always surprised him how effectively they used symbols and images to communicate simple ideas. i_So much different from Denobula_/i he thought.

IV.-

The monitor caught his eye because of its color – graphite. The decor in almost every cabin they had visited thus far had been a dull brown-yellowish color. Malcolm thought it unconventional, beige rooms with no family pictures – only Earth views: landscapes, seascapes, snowed mountains, city views. Some of the rooms had books, mostly Terra Prime propaganda, and all of them had plants – common grass and clovers. There also were some cups and wood boxes here and there.

The schedule displayed at the monitor listed duty hours, meals, off time activities, training sessions, almost every minute of the day was programmed. He didn't recognize the name of the employee. There was a small ideogram shown at the upper left corner of the table containing the data that probably was used as an ID of sorts.

The sound of Rossi's steps moving toward the door got his attention, and he looked up from the icon he was studying. The door opened and Rossi moved out to the hallway. Malcolm left after him. He noticed the commander taking notes – again – without making any comments about them. "Have you found anything interesting, sir?" he asked him finally.

Rossi kept writing and asked him without looking up "What would you say about the people that lived here, Lieutenant?"

"Well, most of them seem to have no family or to be estranged from them... not many interests outside of mining and Terra Prime. Apparently eating is not allowed out of their mess hall, and many of them seem to like common plants…oh, and their schedule seems to change periodically," he finished.

"You noticed their schedules too. Weird, don't you think? How many times would the schedule change in a mine? Even if they worked on a rotating basis. Any idea what the icon could be used for, apart from personnel ID?" Rossi mused.

"No idea, sir. I'll ask Ensign Sato to check them, if it's all right with you," Reed suggested.

"Who's Ensign Sato?" Rossi asked.

"She is Enterprise's Communications Officer, assigned to assist the investigating team. They're decrypting files at the management center, two levels above us."

Rossi nodded in agreement. He stood in the corridor looking straight ahead, his eyes narrowed, thinking. "Did you know that most of these people were recruited on Earth and brought to the Moon to be trained in mining? Their backgrounds cover almost every job you can think of: teachers, medics, clerks, farmers, chemists. There were only two of them that came from out of system colonies," Rossi said, while walking down the corridor. He turned to look at Reed, waiting for his comment.

"Sir?" Malcolm asked a little confused.

"Not much of a people person yourself, are you, Lieutenant?"

"Actually no, sir," Malcolm said uncomfortably.

Rossi chuckled, amused by Malcolm's discomfort. "Paxton knows his business, Lieutenant. He even used the quarter's color schemes to influence them: brown and beige usually invoke images of nature, nests… home, Earth. He ran them as a cult would," he said.

"You mean religiously?" Malcolm asked

"Not exactly. Cults usually appeal to people because they offer father figures and claim simple solutions for complex problems. These messiahs also call for commitment, sacrifice, and dedication to those in need. Paxton has been doing this for years, and he is a master of coercion."

"Why is he surfacing now?" said Malcolm thoughtfully.

"We experienced a major social breakdown after the Xindi attack, and Earth's society has been shaken up for at least 25 years, ever since interchange with other species started occurring on our own soil and not just through a few freighters that traveled for long periods of time and stayed for only brief periods on Earth," Rossi told him.

"You mean we should have known something like this would happen eventually?" Malcolm's tone was almost aggressive, which surprised both men.

"No, not at all. There's something else that apparently we didn't understand correctly: How the concepts of 'us' and 'them' have developed over these last decades. By 'them' I mean non-humans," Rossi said. Malcolm stared back at him with an interested expression.

"Historically, when experiencing social changes that they believe threatening, humans tend to adopt xenophobic idealisms as a strategy for making the distinction between 'us' and 'them'. That way they can manage both the complexity and anxiety of meeting cultural change," Rossi explained.

"Do you believe Paxton knew all of this and exploited it for his benefit?"

"Probably. I think he identified similarities between Earth's current situation and Colonel Green's Earth and thought that he could make it work this time. We've identified Terra Prime operative cells at every major city. If he hadn't gone into the open now, it could have been even worse. Their growth rate is considerable. Soon they probably would have infiltrated the government, if they haven't by now," Rossi concluded.

At Rossi's last statement, Malcolm's internal alerts sounded clearly in his mind. The security officer in him took control. "You believe Massaro wasn't the only one, don't you?"

Rossi's guarded expression said it all. "I wouldn't leave the system without investigating every member of your crew," he advised Reed.

They arrived at the next crew quarters they were going to check: Paxton's. When the doors opened, the décor coloring – dark blue and indigo – made Malcolm turn around and look, even at the ceiling.

"Nice, Lieutenant, don't you think?" Rossi asked with a big smile on his face.

"Let me guess, sir. Blue and violet mean … Paxton is the one who makes the rules?" Malcolm said tentatively while he smiled as well.

"Close enough, Lieutenant," replied Rossi while walking to the monitor and turning it on. When the image appeared, next to Paxton's name was an icon, different from all the others they had seen until now.

Malcolm looked around, taking in the details now: no plants here, the pictures this time had people on them – very old pictures. i_Colonel Green, maybe?/i_ He walked to the closest one and studied it carefully. He didn't recognize anyone in it, nor did he recognize the background.

Meanwhile, Rossi was looking at the books Paxton had kept in his room. Most of them were historical memoirs from Green's era, except for two that looked quite old. He took "Treasure Island" and "Moby Dick" and opened them. Both were first editions from the 19th century. He took his pad and wrote down some notes. Malcolm watched him look, touch and write notes about every item that was on display. When he returned to the books and put them back in place he turned around, looking for Malcolm.

"I'm done here, Lieutenant. Let's go. Do you know if there's somewhere we can have some coffee?"

"There's an improvised cafeteria in the second level," Malcolm answered. Both men walked out of the room and down the corridor toward the elevator.

V.-

Her eyes were fixed on the pad lying in front of her. She had checked these numbers twice but still couldn't figure them out. Usually she only resorted to studying the raw data as a last resort. Sometimes just looking at the figures would point her toward what was wrong or missing, but this time there was no pattern to follow. The steam coming up from her tea caught her eye. She took the mug with both hands and drank a bit. It was still too hot, she thought. The sound of the Mess Hall door opening startled her, and she turned around to see who was coming in. She smiled when she saw Malcolm walking toward her table.

Hoshi looked at the officer that walked next to Malcolm – a commander. She didn't remember the guy. They hadn't met before. The man was taller than Reed, had dark hair and was in his late thirties, she estimated. When they got closer she noticed that his hair was graying and his eyes were dark brown.

"Lieutenant. Commander," she said, nodding.

"Ensign Hoshi Sato. Commander Lucas Rossi, Starfleet Intelligence," Malcolm said in introduction.

Rossi extended his right hand while his inquisitive eyes were on her, taking everything in, estimating her age, noticing the tiny scars on her forehead, realizing how her expression changed as soon as she saw Reed.

"Ensign" he said in greeting as they shook hands. Hoshi smiled politely. His voice was nice. So was his handshake - firm, but not too forceful.

"Sir," she replied.

"Any suggestions about what kind of coffee should we drink?" Rossi asked her while taking a look at the room they were in. She noted his accent immediately. His native tongue was Spanish but he didn't sound like a Spaniard.

Malcolm shrugged. Hoshi elaborated with a smile. "I wouldn't know, sir. I only drink tea, but I'm pretty sure there's espresso, lattes and decaf. Not sure if cappuccinos are available," she told him helpfully.

Rossi looked at the dispenser and walked towards it. He ordered a latte, no sugar and then asked Malcolm what he wanted. i_A tea drinker that notices details and a decaf extra sweet that doesn't bother/i,_ he thought. This was typical of Rossi, always noticing these details. He would remember what everybody drank, and the next time they shared a break he would detect changes in behavior if any were present.

He came back to Hoshi's table and gave Malcolm his coffee. He drank his and enjoyed the creamy taste. Hoshi noticed that he wore a simple gold wedding band on his left hand. "Were you living in South America when the Xindi attacked, sir?" she asked him.

Rossi looked at her, surprised. "No, I was stationed in Lisbon back then. Why do you ask?" his tone harsher than he intended

_iLisbon? – Starfleet doesn't have facilities in Portugal. Stationed__? Who was he working for?/i_ Malcolm thought.

"It's your accent, sir. I know your native tongue is Spanish, but you don't sound like a Spaniard would, so I figured you must be from America," she said, a little worried.

His eyes narrowed, as they had before. i_Would he take notes about this?/i_ Malcolm thought.

"Excuse me, sir, but there are no Starfleet bases in Portugal. Were you serving in another branch?" Malcolm couldn't help it. He had to know.

Rossi looked at Malcolm without answering right away. His eyes went to the table and then back to Reed. "I worked for UE's Intelligence Agency back then. I was recruited by Starfleet less than a month after the Xindi attack," he told them. Malcolm's expression hardened slightly. Hoshi's face, on the other side, stayed unguarded.

"Can you determine which part of South America I'm from?" he asked Hoshi, changing the subject. He smiled at her.

"No. But if you speak in Spanish I can try," she told him smugly.

The commander chuckled. "Well, Ensign, that'll have to wait... as well as the detailed explanation about how you can do that. The Lieutenant has a task for you."

Malcolm put down his coffee cup and fingered his pad to show Hoshi the icons they'd noticed in the crew quarters. "Can you look at these symbols, Hoshi? We think they may be ID icons, but we're not sure."

She took the pad from him, all business now that she had a puzzle to solve.

"The crew ID codes were identified on the first day of the investigation," she said almost to herself as she paged through the data on the pad. "They're thirteen-digit number strings... and if I can tie these icons to the codes it might help with the decryption keys I've been trying to generate..." She paused in her search and looked up with a sigh. "I'll have to spend some time on this, but I've got ID codes and retinal scans on every crew member in the mining station. I know that the decryption keys for some of the vital files we haven't accessed yet have to be related. Perhaps the icons are a link. Any little bit would help. I haven't had any success so far. I'm going to check this out and let you know if we find anything," she told them. Both of them nodded. She barely noticed it when they finished their coffees and left.

She took her pad and checked the data on the encryption key generation algorithms that she'd discovered last night. i_It still doesn't make sense_/i she thought. Her hand moved to her cup, and she noticed that it had cooled down.

VI.-

Captain Archer hadn't realized he had dropped some coffee while reading the last update on repairs until he turned to grab a data disk. He cleaned the drops with his right hand – i_déjà vu/i_ – he thought. The image of his cup floating over his desk, surrounded by spilled coffee, was as clear as a high resolution photograph would be. i_It even looked cool_./i He sighed.

_iHow long has it been?/i_ Archer remembered the damaged sphere and the ship that attacked them; He'd been searching for the Xindi, so focused he couldn't remember what the rest of the crew did back then. Memories started coming back to him. i_Malcolm, he was with me at the airlock. Trip smacked down that Osaarian. That's why we got him_./iMost of the details from their time in the Expanse were lost to him, but he did remember his own actions – all of them.

He knew they were in extreme circumstances. He'd had to do whatever it took to succeed in the mission, but still, it didn't taste good, no matter how much rationalization he did to convince himself he'd done the best he could, not even if he became a cynic – the biggest one in the universe.

His eyes were fixed on the spot where the coffee drops had landed. His face, a mask, only showed his fatigue, concealing everything else he felt. He'd become a master at it, hiding himself behind his Starfleet officer's armor. He thought about the Vulcans. Different objectives – similar techniques, was his conclusion. The smile on his face was out of place. He didn't feel like laughing. He wasn't happy at all, but it was kind of funny, anyway – him using Vulcan techniques to hide his emotional state.

_iLife is change__./i _He remembered the phrase but couldn't pinpoint its origin. i_Admiral Jonny Archer/i, _was his next memory. He wished his father were still alive_. iHe probably would understand that I'm not a hero/i, _he thought_._

Terra Prime and their actions hit Archer deeper than everybody thought. Regardless of the fact that he couldn't understand what had made them act as they had, he couldn't help but wonder how they'd gotten to where they were now. Had his actions – his father's and his own – affected them in any way? His open-mindedness and eagerness to explore, to reach other worlds, to expand Earth's knowledge and welfare were shared by many others, but he'd never stopped to think about the people that didn't share them. i_Maybe nobody did_/i was his last thought before the com system sounded.

"Reed to Captain Archer." Malcolm's voice sounded muffled.

i_He must be outdoors_/i Archer concluded.

Jon was correct. Reed, in his zeal as Security Officer, had decided to communicate with his captain from outside the mining facility. Leaving Commander Rossi with the leader of the medical team surveying the genetic lab, his excuse not a lie, but not entirely truthful either, he'd told them he had to report back to Enterprise. He'd used the closest outer door to leave the building, and had walked 200 meters away from it, creating small clouds of reddish dust at every step, leaving clear boot marks along his path and exerting himself until his breathing was hard and difficult, even with his mask on. When he had regained a bearable breathing rhythm, he had activated his communicator, called the captain, and waited.

"Archer here, Lieutenant." Archer didn't know if Malcolm was alone or with Commander Rossi so he opted for a formal tone.

"Sir, can you order the Com Officer to patch us through a high security channel?"

i_This is weird. It should be an investigation status report/i_, Archer thought. "Give me a minute, Lieutenant."

Malcolm heard the silence coming from Enterprise that meant he was "on hold" while the security routings were being set. His mind had been evaluating every possible scenario he could think off since Rossi told him that there could be other Terra Primers infiltrating Enterprise and Starfleet. i_Every precaution isn't enough. We have to make sure we'll be safe while on missions. Well, as safe as we can be_/i he thought morosely.

"Go ahead. We're good now." He heard the captain loud and clear.

"I've reason to believe that a thorough crew background check is imperative, sir." Malcolm sounded grave.

"What kind of reasons and what would we be looking for?" Jon asked, his expression darkening. He felt very protective of his crew. Everybody had been worthy of his trust, until Massaro.

"Sir, may I speak freely?"

Archer frowned – wrinkles formed around his eyes and between his eyebrows. i_This is strange. I can't remember the last time he asked me this/i,_ he thought. "Of course, Malcolm."

"I had a conversation with Commander Rossi about Terra Prime and its growth. He hinted that there might be Terra Prime operatives in Starfleet, in the government and even on Enterprise, sir."

"Is this official?" Archer sounded surprised.

"I don't believe so, sir. If it were, you would have known about this before I did," Malcolm said.

Archer nodded thoughtfully.

"Can you elaborate, Malcolm?" Both of his hands went to his temples.

"No. He didn't mention any details, sir."

"But you believe him, don't you?" asked Archer.

"We can't afford not to, Sir. There's too much risk involved. If it is true, we not only risk the crew, the ship and our missions, but sensitive information leaking to Terra Prime." Reed's voice mirrored Archer's own thoughts.

When no answer came from the captain, Malcolm got impatient. He knew Archer and his decision making process, if the captain wasn't convinced it wouldn't matter what his opinion was. He clearly remembered how much he'd tried to convince him not to go into the Xindi weapon, and lately, it was Malcolm himself who should have been transported to the Klingon colony to look for Phlox. Unfortunately, Malcolm had been in no position to argue back then. He shook his head, trying to clear the disturbing memories. Luckily, the captain's voice took him out of his reverie.

"When are you coming back to Enterprise?" Archer's attenuated voice got to his ears through the breathing mask's supports.

"This evening, sir."

"Good. As soon as you get here, let me know so we can meet to start planning the background checks."

"Yes, sir," he replied, smiling. He was about to cut the transmission when Archer's voice reached him again.

"Malcolm, can you contact Harris?"

"Sir?..."

"I'm not sure what I'm asking from you, Malcolm," said Archer hesitantly, "...but we'll need more information if there are Terra Primers in Starfleet."

_iYou do what you have to do, Malcolm/i_, his father's voice was clear in his mind. He remembered clearly the last time his father had told him this – their last argument regarding him not joining the Navy and leaving for San Francisco. Back then he'd thought his father was a cynic, tainting his dream – joining Starfleet – with such a gloomy premonition. Now, he had come to believe that it was his father's own experience – decisions made, paths taken, regretful omissions – that were talking then. i_Maybe it was his way of giving me some advice/i,_ he thought. Right now, the older man wasn't wrong after all. He supposed that his father had had good reasons for doing what he had to on his own time; just as he had now. At that moment he decided to call home as soon as a transmission could be set for him. i_It has been too long_./i

"I understand Sir, but there will be consequences I'm not certain you are aware of." Malcolm's voice was cold and matter-of-fact.

"We'll deal with them, Malcolm," Archer said reassuringly.

"Yes, sir," Malcolm responded. He sighed. There was really nothing else he could say.

"Is there anything else, Lieutenant?"

"No, sir. Reed out."

Archer's eyes went back to the coffee stains that were still discernible on his desk. He took his coffee mug and drank from it until there was nothing left. i_We must be extremely careful if Rossi is right_/i he thought. He would make sure that his action's influences on Terra Prime's organization and its followers were clearly identified. This time he'd be certain of that. His train of thought was interrupted abruptly by the image of a Starfleet Command communication request on his display.

"Captain, Admiral Gardner requested to speak with you, sir," the petty officer said by way of greeting.

"Put him through, Petty Officer," Archer said while facing the screen.


	3. Chapter 3

There Are No Shadows in the Dark

VII.-

Trip caught sight of Archer in the corridor of E-deck on his way to lunch. He hurried to catch up to the captain, who had just entered the Mess Hall.

Archer was engrossed in thought and didn't hear Trip at first. The engineer touched his arm to get his attention. "Trip, sorry. I didn't hear you." Jon shook his head and then smiled, a little embarrassed. "What about lunch?" he asked Trip.

"Sure. Any news from the investigation team?" Tucker asked him, worried, while walking next to him.

"No, not yet. What about you and Travis?" Archer asked directing Trip's attention to a safer subject, he thought.

"It's weird, but I think the design they used for those upgrades is Vulcan," Tucker told him, lowering his voice.

They both had arrived at the Captain's mess hall door when Trip murmured his conclusion. Jon looked at the Chief Engineer with a knowing look and shook his head, signaling him not to talk until they were inside. "You knew about this?" Tucker asked Jon while waking towards his usual seat.

"No, but I spoke with Admiral Gardner a while ago and he informed me that Soval will be visiting Enterprise tomorrow. He wants to meet with you, T'Pol and myself. I was wondering what this was about. Now I have a theory," he told him while arranging his napkin on his lap.

Trip looked at him with an expectant look on his face. When Archer didn't elaborate he thought it unusual, not to mention the "don't talk" signal. "What's going on, Cap'n?" he asked.

"I'm not sure yet, but I'll let you know as soon as the next investigation report arrives," Archer told him. Trip frowned, but let it go.

"What else did the Admiral say?" Trip asked, while grabbing a piece of bread and spreading some butter on it.

"We're ordered to get Enterprise to Jupiter Station as soon as our cooperation with the investigating team ends," Archer was telling him when he was interrupted by a crewman who handed him a menu.

"Any ideas how long the repairs will take?" Trip asked. No sooner had the words left his mouth when he realized that he should be telling the captain and not the other way around. He made a face and said, mortified, "I'll head to engineering as soon as we finish dinner, Captain,"

Archer laughed, amused at Trip's embarrassment, and tried to calm him a little. "It's OK. You're off duty, and we're not just going for repairs. A new set of long range sensors are going to be installed…" He also took some bread then. "Vulcan design" he added.

Trip had just taken a bite and was still chewing – and almost choked – when he heard Jon's announcement. His expressiveness had always amused Archer, so the captain smiled and kept talking. "As soon as you go back on duty, I'd like you, T'Pol and Malcolm to review the new sensor schematics and make a detailed analysis of changes and new parts before we get there." He didn't voice completely what was on his mind, keeping to himself the thorough inspection he would ask from Trip after the sensors were installed. _If anything that shouldn't be there is installed, we're going to know about it, make sure it is monitored and that it only transmits whatever I decide,_ he thought, determined.

Trip heard the footsteps of the crewman bringing their lunches while he approached, so he waited until his dish was in front of him – as well as the Captain's – before speaking again. "Don't worry, Captain. I'll supervise the repairs and the sensor's installation, if that's OK with you," he said.

Archer smiled and picked up a knife to cut his steak. "There's no need for you to do it all, Trip. I plan to authorize leave passes for every crew member that files a request, so if you want some time off, you'll be cleared to enjoy it," he said, taking a bite.

"Thanks, Cap'n. I'll think about it," Trip answered him.

Archer looked at him and smiled. "How's your shoulder doing?" he asked him, noticing that he wasn't wearing the sling anymore.

"Phlox checked me out this morning and says it'll be fine in a couple of days. It's still sore but feels fine most of the time." Trip moved his left shoulder in a circular motion to show him it was indeed fine.

They finished their meals in silence, both of them engrossed in their thoughts. Trip was intrigued with those apparently Vulcan nacelles down on Mars and Archer was thinking about the implications of Rossi's and Malcolm's suspicions.

"Did the Admiral say anything about our next mission?" Trip asked suddenly while spooning up some pie.

Archer had been taciturn for most of the meal, and Trip thought it must be something the Admiral told him. The captain looked up from his fruit salad and faced Trip. "Actually he did. We're going on a joint mission with Vulcans and Andorians. Remember the drones you and Malcolm were stranded in?" Trip nodded and looked at the Captain, freezing with his fork in mid air. "We're going back there to collect any remains we might find."

"Any idea why they're sending us there?" Trip asked him back unenthusiastically. Archer shook his head and then added "I believe Soval might enlighten us about that."

"How so?" Trip said with his mouth full of pie.

"I heard the Vulcans wanted to check some data they collected while we were searching for the drones but I guess they hadn't been able to agree with the Andorians how to do this. They were the only ones who retrieved pieces of the drones. And, well, we were the only ones who got to board those ships, so I guess you and Malcolm will be doing some recollecting," Archer said.

Trip was sucking his fork thoughtfully. "So we'll be acting diplomats again, ah??" he said while wrinkling his nose as if something smelly was in front of him.

Archer couldn't help it and he laughed at him. Sometimes Trip was so easy to read. "What?" Trip said, turning to face him. The captain shook his head, still laughing. "Black coffee for me and the commander," he told the crew man who was taking the dishes back to the galley.

"Will we be leaving as soon as the repairs are done?" Trip asked the captain, back to business.

"It depends on Paxton's trial and our depositions," Archer said while thanking the crewman for the coffee with a smile and a nod.

"Mmh, do you think we'll be needed to testify at the trial?" asked Trip while sipping his coffee.

"I hope not. Starfleet is negotiating for video testimony from Enterprise crew members to be allowed, if necessary," Jon told him.

When he heard Paxton's name, Trip's anger resurfaced full force. He focused his eyes on the stars in the viewport in front of him, breathing deeply, trying to control himself. His thoughts went to T'Pol and he saw himself in the white space. The image came with a set of sensations he couldn't identify clearly – it disappeared too quickly – except for numbness and hunger.

The captain said something he didn't get while standing up.

"I've got to head back to my ready room and try to make sense of all this," said Archer reluctantly.

Trip, still distracted by the images he assumed were coming from T'Pol, looked up at him and nodded. There was still some coffee on his cup so he showed it to Jon, who left him on his own. He looked at his cup and drank the remaining coffee. He stayed seated for a while wondering if he should interrupt T'Pol's meditation. He didn't want to distract her, but at the same time he wanted to see her so much, to hear her talk to him, touch her a little, just enough to make sure she was fine.

_Well, she has to eat and I'm sure she's hungry_ was his last thought before leaving to get her lunch.

VIII.-

The candle light flickered naturally, moving her shadow over the wall as if she were rocking back and forth, but she was not. She sat Indian style, unmoving, hands crossed at her lap, back straight, eyes closed. Even her breathing was hard to notice. She had been meditating for most of the day and her knees were numb from the lack of movement for such a long time.

The door chime brought her back immediately. "Come in" she said, and the door opened, letting Trip in. He closed the door after stepping in. The tray he was carrying reflected the candle's flame, creating a slim, weak, yellowish ray. He sat across her low table and put the tray in front of her, moving the candle to one side.

He took his time to study her. She was still wearing her light blue suit. It looked a darker shade, almost teal under the candle light. He still liked it. Actually, it was the one which he liked the most. _Does she know? Probably not, _he thought. Her hair looked darker too – chocolate brown. She breathed deeply, inhaling the Plomeek broth's smell. _Nice ah? I like it too,_ the thought ran through his mind as if they were chatting. He was smiling tenderly while watching her, so when she looked back at him, he just told her.

"I felt your hunger…" he said with a low voice. Her eyebrows barely moved to acknowledge him, her eyes on his face. She didn't look very much different than other days. _Just tired_, he thought. But he could feel her sadness and her concern.

She took the glass and felt its coldness on her fingers. The water had the slight metallic taste she had never gotten used to. Trip kept looking at her while she drank. "Have you eaten?" T'Pol asked him.

He nodded. "With the captain a while ago," he told her while watching her spoon up some Plomeek broth.

He watched her eat in silence while noticing the small, light colored freckles on her chest and nose which you had to know were there to distinguish. Today he didn't care if she noticed he was watching – or even if she called him out for staring at her.

Soon her meal was over and she looked up at him again. "You OK?" he asked her.

"I am fine."

Trip smiled and shook his head with an unconvinced expression on his face. She took the tray and stood up, putting it on her desk. He walked closer to her, his eyes not leaving her face. "Is the meditation helping you?" She just looked at him without answering immediately.

"It is," she said finally.

"I'll let you go back to your meditation, then," he told her, his voice warm while he leaned into her and kissed her cheek softly. The sensation of him this close took her by surprise and her hand went to his arm. He straightened up and looked at her.

_I wish I could read your mind,_ Trip thought.

T'Pol took a deep breath and her hand fell to her side. He didn't move back. Instead his arms opened and he smiled. Her eyes moistened. He touched her cheek with the back of his fingers and T'Pol gave in. She moved into his embrace, circling Trip with her arms. Trip hugged her back, one of his hands on her lower back and the other one around her neck. She felt his thumb's soft touch behind her ear. The longing she had felt for Trip for some time was gone, as it always was the few times they had been together again.

The touch on his cheek was warm and soft – T'Pol's hair. He liked holding her. _Maybe too much,_ he thought. It didn't happen very often, which he lamented deeply, he would have held her forever if she'd let him. _She'd tell me that's not logical or practical_, he thought. He smiled a sad smile this time and got a little closer to her. He felt electric, didn't want to let go and tightened his embrace. "I'm here for whatever you need," he whispered at her ear.

"I know," was her response.

"Why didn't you call me earlier?" Trip asked while rubbing her back.

"You were occupied with Ensign Mayweather. It was only logical to let you finish your work. Actually, I would like you to tell me about what were you working on," she told him.

He nodded, then his eyes narrowed "You should've called me anyway…," he started, but she didn't let him finish.

"You were engrossed and distracted by your activities," he heard her say. His eyes closed and guilt washed through him. She knew he'd been enjoying himself checking those diagrams and tests. She moved back and looked at his face. "My meditation was productive and its effect is similar to the effect that work has on you." One of her hands moved up to Trip's face, to caress his cheek.

He leaned into her touch in silence for a while and then he spoke, "Should've been here with you."

"You are now," she told him. He nodded. _I'm staying as long as you let me, _he thought. Both her eyebrows rose while looking at him and Trip felt something like a warm, soft breeze in his mind. His presence was comforting to her, soothing. _Must be this bond of ours_.

"Have you been sleeping enough?" she asked him, changing the subject and his mind's focus as well.

He shrugged, "Yeah, it's not that bad, don't worry."

"I am not worried," she clarified.

"Course not. Sorry," she heard him say, his wide, tender smile contagious. She suppressed a smile in return, grateful that this time she succeeded.

"What about you?"

"I have been meditating, mostly. I do not need as much sleep as you do," she told him before he could interrupt her.

Trip raised his right hand to touch her face again, tracing the slightly darkened underside of her eyes with his thumb. He didn't say anything to her, it wasn't necessary. Concern showed all over his features.

Her lips had always been a temptation for him – soft and warm – but this time, he believed that they were softer that ever. He kissed her upper lip, tugging softly, slowly, almost reverently. His chest felt as if it were opening, he never wanted to let go of her. _Let me help you, sweetie. Just let me stay here if that helps you,_ he pleaded in his thoughts. T'Pol kissing him back made him smile into their kiss. He loved being kissed by her and she knew it. His thumb never stopped caressing under her jaw line until they separated, Trip's eyes on hers, hers on his lips.

"Will you be able to meditate if I stay here with you?" Her eyes went to his and she nodded slightly. He thought she would move away but instead she got closer, leaned her head on his shoulder and hugged him again. He enjoyed the closeness and waited, caressing her back with slow tender strokes. For as long as she'd let him hold her – help her, just be with her – he would stay, Trip thought. His eyes fell on her meditation candle, tossed to the farthest side of the low table, burning in the middle of a puddle of melted wax, still flickering and creating weird shadows on the wall at his back. This time, it was their embraced image that was the one rocking with the rhythm of the flame.

IX.-

Travis sat in front of the captain, so he had a panoramic view of Mars. He had only had breakfast with Archer a couple of times before, during their first year in space. Back then it was a social event, designed to help the captain relate to and get to know his crew. Travis was certain that Archer knew every one of them, the good as well as the bad in each of them. Their time serving together and the Xindi made that possible. So the order to have breakfast together – in his ready room and not the mess hall – was odd.

"What do you think about the mining facility's design, Travis? I read your report," Archer said, while grabbing a piece of toast.

"It's all there, sir. I don't have anything new. Should I…?" Mayweather answered anxiously.

Archer lifted his hand to stop him. "Your report was very thorough, but I want to know if you've seen anything like this before. You've more experience than anyone on board with non-Starfleet vessels," Archer told him calmly.

The helmsman relaxed visibly in his seat. "I'm not sure. Every time I've piloted close to it I just can't stop looking at those nacelles. They look familiar, but I can't remember from where." Travis remembered the conclusions that he and Commander Tucker had come to before he'd left him at noon the day before. They'd been pretty sure it was a Vulcan design. It was poorly built, though. The alloy used didn't comply with Vulcan standards, which caused hull integrity to be critical during the short trip from the Moon, but it was quite efficient. Its consumption was 27 lower than an equivalent configuration of twin nacelles.

"Did you notice they used valves similar to ours on their intermix ratio controls, sir? We couldn't figure out if they had access to NX's valves design, or if it was by coincidence that our valves are similar to theirs. Do you know if we're using Vulcan valves, sir?" the ensign asked.

Archer looked at him thoughtfully. Could Starfleet be using Vulcan designs? His pride said not a chance, but it was possible. He shook his head. "My gut says no, but I really don't know, Travis. I'm certain every piece of this ship was built on Earth. Trip probably knows."

"He wasn't certain either, sir. We discussed it yesterday. Actually we filed an inquiry in the Starfleet Engineering Database with no results."

"That's weird," Archer said.

"We were pretty surprised too, sir," Travis said with a worried face. "There's something else, sir. The alloy they used, it's pretty common and not very expensive, but it's unreliable. I guess they got it through the black market."

"Why would you say that?"

"The nacelles on the facility were a surprise to all of us, including Starfleet, weren't they?"

Archer nodded.

"It's not produced on Earth. It doesn't comply with our standards. My dad used it for temporary repairs when there wasn't much time or funds. He always got it from aliens, most of the time from Rigellians," Travis said while drinking his coffee.

"If they had bought it legally, the purchase would have gone through some kind of government control and we would have known, wouldn't we? I mean, Starfleet was monitoring them," he continued while Archer watched him intently.

"Is it used for anything else?" Archer asked, thinking that it might have been disguised as something they'd bought for the mining business.

"No idea, sir. But among the Boomers it's pretty common knowledge that it's no good for lasting construction. I can't figure out why Paxton used it," he continued.

"Did Trip know that this alloy is unreliable?"

"Not right away, but he knew it didn't comply with Starfleet standards as soon as he saw its metallurgical specs," said Travis.

Archer smiled before going on. "He is our Chief and it'd be within his rights to reject any alloy that didn't comply with Starfleet specs. I guess Paxton didn't have any Boomers or competent spaceflight trained engineers aboard."

Travis looked at the captain and smiled back. "Yeah, I guess you're right, sir. Paxton did need help with the Verteron array, so maybe they lacked good engineers."

Archer nodded, his hand around his coffee mug. "Anything we can use from that Vulcan design?" he asked. He had read the report from top to bottom, even though it was directed to Starfleet intelligence, but there were at least two figures in there that should have made Trip's mouth water. Strangely, there was no reference to further study on any of them.

Travis looked at him and nodded, his eyes sparkling in interest. "Well, yes, sir. Did you notice they needed a smaller reactor to reach Warp than a twin nacelles configuration would?" he said eagerly.

Archer hadn't seen Travis this enthusiastic in a while. _Maybe he should be down in engineering with Trip,_ he thought. "I did. Why didn't you detail it on the report sent to Starfleet Intel?"

"Actually, we did, but Commander Rossi asked us to focus on the facts related to the investigation and told us that he'll let us know if we can pass the information to R&D, sir," Mayweather said.

"Good," the captain told him.

Their breakfast was almost over and Archer realized that he had never asked Travis about his plans, his future. "Have you thought about your future, Ensign?"

Travis remembered the offer of a teaching position at Starfleet Training he'd received while in San Francisco. It was interesting and he could be close to Gannet, but would he be able to settle on Earth? Would he be missing space travel day after day? He wasn't sure.

"I haven't made up my mind yet, sir" he said, anxiousness evident in his voice.

"About?" Archer asked.

"The training position Admiral Black offered me…"

The surprise reflected on Archer's face was so evident that Travis had no doubt that the captain wasn't aware of the offer he had received. He was about to speak again when the door chime sounded. Lieutenant Reed had arrived. He knew there was an update from Mars planned that morning so Malcolm must be early, as he consistently tended to be in these occasions. _I guess I should talk with the captain later_ he thought. When he realized that Enterprise's pull on him was still strong the choice hadn't been that hard, after all. He felt as if a big weight had been lifted from his back, but then he remembered that he should talk with Gannet too. _Oh boy._

Travis smiled politely. "If you'll excuse me, Captain, I'll leave you two to your meeting." He gave Archer a hopeful look. "I'd like to continue this another time, though... if that's all right."

Archer smiled and nodded.

Malcolm watched the ensign leave and was curious about why Travis would need to talk to the captain in private. Had he interrupted them? Was there something going on with Mayweather that he didn't know? Would this have something to do with the crew background screenings he had planned last night? All of these questions were running through his mind when the captain offered him a seat and a cup of coffee. He hadn't noticed the carafe sitting at the captain's desk nor the extra cup next to it.

He heard the coffee pouring into his cup while admiring the view at Archer's back. He was about to speak when the com system sounded, informing Archer that Ambassador Soval's shuttle would be arriving in 83 minutes and that the Ambassador wished to meet him as soon as they docked with Enterprise.

_Why is he coming here? Why now?_ Malcolm thought. Archer didn't say anything about it. He just got back to business.

"So, Lieutenant. Tell me about your plans for the background checks on the crew," he said.

X.-

Trip opened his eyes to the sight of dark brown hair on the pillow near his head. It was a sight that had always made him smile, and this morning wasn't any different from the ones before.

Yesterday evening had been surreal. T'Pol had meditated most of the time while he napped on her bed, surrounded by a faint smell that he recognized as hers – mildly floral, like passing by jasmine, and at the same time an earthy essence like deep woods. Whenever he opened his eyes he was able to see her, sitting in front of her candle. At first he thought he would disturb her, but apparently she didn't even notice his presence. Or maybe she did. He had this hunch that she kind of enjoyed having him there, but he wasn't completely sure. Trip breathed deeply and got a little closer, his left hand sliding under her camisole so he had access to her belly. She always liked it when he did that. She'd never voiced it, but he knew. His fingers tips ran slowly around her navel. Moving up to her rib cage, he traced her ribs with his thumb while he embraced her, waking her up. He felt the change in her breathing rhythm while her fingers intertwined with his.

"Soval's coming today," he spoke into her neck. She nodded. "We'd better get up," Trip continued. There was no answer or movement from her, so he kissed her neck softly and waited for her.

Trip closed his eyes while he remembered yesterday evening's events. After her meditation was over they'd gone to the Mess Hall to have dinner together, but they'd run into Phlox, who'd updated them on his findings regarding the Terra Prime files he had reviewed. This information had had an unsettling effect on both of them. Who had helped Paxton with the medical procedures that had allowed him to create Elizabeth? It was clear now that they'd had alien aid, but who did it and why?

When they'd left, on their way back to each of their quarters, Trip had decided not to leave T'Pol, so he'd followed her. They were both tired, even him after napping for most of the afternoon, so the logical action was to get some sleep, as she'd told him so calmly.

_She played me like a master_, he thought, smiling. He had wanted to stay with her so badly last night. She'd probably known it. So she'd made it clear that it was only logical for them to stay that way - together.

T'Pol turning and lying on her back next to him made him return to the present. "Mornin'," he said.

She acknowledged him with a slight nod. Her eyes were clear, the greenish shadows under them gone. She studied his face for some time while Trip caressed her ribs again – palm wide open – moving up to touch the underside of her breast, his fingers tracing the soft rounded skin lovingly. Her face showed nothing. She was impassively looking at him, but her breathing gave her away. It was slightly faster than it should have been. T'Pol surprised him when she moved closer and kissed him, sucking at his upper lip softly but non-stop for a full minute.

"Good morning," she told him, moving her head back to her pillow. Trip rolled on top of her. Her legs parted, cradling his hips. He kissed her back with deep loving kisses, his fingertips touching her face, hers lightly traveling up his back. Before he realized it, he'd started a slow, subtle rhythm with his hips against hers.

She remembered the early morning wake up kisses, as Trip called them, that they both had enjoyed before she invited him to visit her home. She had missed them every morning since then, but she'd managed to control her nostalgia as a Vulcan should. After some months, she'd sublimated her need so completely that she didn't notice she was still missing them – she was a creature of habit after all – until he'd left her. And then everything she'd felt for him had re-surfaced, with the accompanying pain, sorrow and regret. Her embrace tightened. Her arms and legs closed around Trip, making him stop his kisses and look her in the eye. He felt her calves press against the back of his thighs and her arms surround his back, her hands grabbing his sides.

It wasn't difficult for Trip to interpret her thoughts, or parts of them. "I'm not going anywhere," he murmured, still looking at her.

"Good," was all she managed to say before her voice cracked a little.

His eyes warmed a bit more, if that were still possible, and he kissed her cheek up to her ear, touching her face with his. His deep low voice reverberated through her ear, making her shiver. She heard him say her name and she pressed her cheek against his. Trip kissed his way back to her mouth, where he sucked and tugged at her lower lip until the tip of his tongue invited hers to return the attention. Which she did, making him smile widely.

The com system sounding caught both of them by surprise.

"Bridge to Commander T'Pol."

Trip pressed the button to answer and kept quiet.

"Go ahead, bridge." Her voice sounded almost normal, just a little off.

"Ambassador Soval will be arriving in about 90 minutes and he has requested a meeting with the senior staff as soon as he arrives, ma'am. The captain ordered it to be held at the Command Centre."

"Understood," T'Pol said.

"Bridge out."

They looked at each other, not moving. "What time is it?" she asked.

Trip moved up to peek at her console. 0743, it showed. "If we get up now we'll still be able to get some breakfast," he told her while moving back to cover her. T'Pol's hands went to his face so she could touch him softly with the backside of her fingers. "Or we could stay right here and skip it," he said, while turning and kissing one of her hands.

"We should get up. I believe the captain will want to meet with us before the Ambassador arrives," she said in a gentle voice. "And you owe me an update on the results of your work with Ensign Mayweather," T'Pol continued.

"I can tell you here," he suggested with an innocent look which gained him a raised eyebrow. He chuckled, and disentangled himself, moving to the side next to the bulkhead and leaving her free to leave, which she did, walking towards her bathroom.


	4. Chapter 4

There Are No Shadows in the Dark

XI.-

Malcolm fingered his pad to access the plan for crew background checks and give it to the captain, but he never got to do that. The console chirped and showed Starfleet's Intelligence logo surrounded by a bright red thin line, announcing a communication from the investigation team on Mars._ Secure channel,_ thought Malcolm, relieved.

The captain accepted the incoming call and the update meeting started. Rossi's face appeared on the screen and he greeted Archer and Reed, moving back so Hoshi could be seen, too. They both sat at a small elliptical, metallic table. It seemed that they were at the lab where Hoshi was working on the ciphering algorithms. In front of each of them rested a couple of pads. Rossi looked as if he had worked non-stop through the night, his day old stubble and the dark shadows under his eyes clearly visible from Enterprise. Hoshi, on the other hand, was only given away by the strands of hair that carelessly hung at the side of her face and the wrinkles on her uniform. She always looked fresh and shiny in the morning – a typical early bird. _Must be Miss Crankiness this morning, considering how much she hates night shifts_, Malcolm thought, smiling to himself.

"We're still not done analyzing all the information that's coming out from the de-encrypted files, but we have some new data I think you'll be interested in," Rossi told them.

Late the previous evening, Hoshi had been able to discover how to generate the keys that decrypted business files and medical logs. She discovered that the icons that every Terra Primer was identified by were codes, much like finger prints that translated into numbers. These codes, as well as retinal scans from each individual and sometimes pairs of them, were used to create encryption keys used to cipher logs – personal, medical and business alike. The first logs decrypted were Paxton's. They were a very unsettling and distasteful reading experience, in her opinion, but for Rossi they would provide research material for months. He hoped that the information would help him disarticulate the Terra Prime organization that survived.

"Have you read Ensign Mayweather's and Doctor Phlox's reports?" Rossi continued. Both Archer and Reed nodded.

"Good" he murmured.

Hoshi looked at the commander surprised, _When did he have time to do that?_ she thought. She had been observing Rossi while they browsed through Paxton's files. She noticed that the man could focus on something almost to the point where he wasn't aware of his surroundings. _Quite unnerving, if you ask me, _she was musing to herself when his voice interrupted her.

"I can confirm that they lost – recently – all of the genetic material they stole from Enterprise. Susan Khouri mishandled it, so it ended up being useless. We don't know if it was intentional or not. Neither did Terra Prime. According to Paxton's log the remains were destroyed after the incident, which is consistent with their Doctor's log. We haven't found how they got the material yet, though."

"I bet they didn't record that kind of information," Archer said.

"Well, sir. I wouldn't bet on that. Paxton believed he'd become a great leader. He recorded almost everything so history would portray him correctly. I'm certain that he saved that kind of information. How he defeated Starfleet – it is here. We just have to be patient," Rossi said almost angrily.

"You OK, Commander?" asked Archer. Rossi's emotionalism took him by surprise. It reminded him of Trip.

"I'm fine, Captain. Just tired and a little on edge," Rossi said. He calmed visibly, but his mind was still reeling. How could Terra Prime and Paxton go this far? Why hadn't Starfleet Intel, himself included, realized the threat they had become before now? He thought about the baby girl that had died because of Paxton's doings and he remembered his babies - his sons – cuddling and laughing with him and his blood boiled.

"There's a freighter that has been a regular visitor to the mining colony for the last 3 years. The ship is the Chimera, and before that was called the Magellan. I already know you've never run into it," he pointed at Hoshi as explanation and then he continued.

"We think it's the third party that Paxton used to access alien technology," Rossi continued, while reaching over to one of the pads and browsing through it.

"What's the cause of the name modification?" Malcolm asked.

"It was transferred from a Boomer family to a European citizen, Klaus Bern, six months before its first visit to Orpheus. The new owner changed its name," said Hoshi while tucking her rebellious hair behind her ear.

"Aquí está," Rossi muttered and looked up. Hoshi was looking at him with a pensive look. She had been picking up his slips into Spanish since they met, but still hadn't been able to identify where he was from.

"Sorry" he said, looking at the console. Both Archer and Reed moved their hands, gesturing that it was all right.

So the commander continued. "The information we have on Mr. Bern states that he acquired the Magellan through a well known broker from the Helvetic Confederation, ordered and paid for a complete refit for the ship at a space port on Mars, appointed himself as captain of the Chimera, and has been on board the ship since then." He finished reading and looked at Archer and Reed.

Rossi didn't give them time to ask anything. "And here comes the curious thing. Whenever he visited the Moon, he never met Paxton, well, not officially. It's not recorded on any log. He always met with one of his men, most of the time with Greaves. We found entries that state that the Chimera transported almost anything, including alien medical supplies, sophisticated medical equipment from a Coridan market about two years ago, and several times, from Alpha Eridani II, Rigellian mechanical pieces. Apparently Paxton is a very thorough manager," Rossi said while leaving his pad on the small table again.

"Any idea where the Chimera is now?" Archer's voice sounded clearly from the speakers embedded in the console at the lab where Hoshi and Rossi had been preparing the update for the last hour and a half. Archer's mind worked feverishly, trying to find a good reason that would justify Enterprise going out to search for the Chimera. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but he couldn't let the opportunity pass. The Rigellian origin of the mechanical pieces reminded him of Mayweather's theory. _Travis might be right_, he thought.

"Not really", he heard Rossi answer. "Its last visit to a human outpost was to Jupiter Station about 3 weeks ago, allegedly to deliver a mineral cargo from Orpheus, its next destination Utopia Colony. But its arrival is not recorded on any space port on Mars. We're already checking if Starfleet has any data regarding course changes or communications with the Chimera since it left Jupiter station."

There was something that had bothered Malcolm about the information about the Chimera's captain since he'd heard it, but he hadn't had an opportunity to ask until now. "Wasn't Bern the capital city of Switzerland?" he said, winning strange looks from the captain and Hoshi but not from Rossi, who turned back to the pad he had been reading from.

Hoshi picked up the connection and fingered her pad as well. "Anything on this guy prior the transfer of the ship?" she heard Rossi ask her.

"No, and I don't remember reading anything at all about Bern before he purchased the Magellan," she said, looking at him. "I'll ask Lieutenant Carras to speed up the search on his background," she said, standing up. Rossi nodded and she walked closer to the com system.

"We have a possible alias for the captain, I guess," Archer said to Reed, who nodded.

"Do we have any information on the crew of the Chimera? Those who left the ship during the last four years? Or those who replaced them? I don't think they would bother hiding their identities," Archer offered as a suggestion. Hoshi heard him clearly and passed the idea to Carras right away.

Rossi scrubbed his eyes and forehead before looking at the console. "We didn't think of that," he said apologetically.

"Never mind, it isn't that obvious. Who remembers capital names not used for the last 100 years?" Archer said looking pointedly at Malcolm who shrugged. "How long did you sleep last night?" Archer asked Rossi.

"I didn't. Actually, no one on the team did. We spent the whole night reading whatever was decrypted," he replied tiredly while looking at the captain and Reed.

"Well, sounds like it was a pretty successful reading session, if you ask me," said Archer, smiling. "Did you find anything on that genetic procedure Phlox mentioned in his report?"

Rossi shook his head. "No, but we accessed part of Paxton's medical logs. Commander T'Pol was right on with her suspicions. He had been using Rigellian gene therapy to treat himself for Taggart Syndrome. We filed an inquiry with the Rigellian Medical Authorities regarding the Khoi procedure last night, no response yet."

"Is there anything we can do to help you?" Archer asked.

"No, Captain. But there's something else. The team decoded some of the engineering logs, and the valve design they used originated on Vulcan. The Vulcans have already confirmed that it's theirs, used in commercial ships for the last 50 years. Not a word on the nacelle design though," Rossi told him with a telling look.

He continued while, Archer processed this piece of information. _Was it possible that my father's team used Vulcan technology?_ He was musing, when Rossi's voice floated from the console.

When he heard Rossi, it was as if the Commander had been reading his mind, or perhaps he had become too predictable. It did surprise him.

"Maybe our engineers discovered the same principles as the Vulcans did and ended with a similar design," he volunteered.

"Maybe" said Archer, unconvinced.

"When do you expect to have enough information for a new update?" Malcolm asked Rossi.

"Not before tomorrow I suppose. Anyway, there's not much to do down here now that the encryption has been broken. Our team will be leaving for San Francisco this evening. The investigation will continue from Starfleet Command. The processing capacity available there will speed up the log decoding." Rossi's voice sounded tired.

"So, I can expect you to be back here this evening, then?" The captain asked Hoshi.

"Yes, sir," she said.

"Is there anyway you'll authorize a transfer for Ensign Sato, Captain?" Rossi asked Archer with an amused smile. "I've been trying to convince this lady about the benefits of Starfleet Intelligence, with no luck," he continued. Archer gave Hoshi a questioning look. She shook her head, letting him know she had no intention of leaving Enterprise. Malcolm looked relieved.

"Not a chance, Commander." Archer's voice was clear and firm. "Will you be heading the investigation from San Francisco?" the captain continued.

"No, I'll focus on the sociological aspects, my area of expertise. Commodore McCallum will be leading the investigation as a whole," Rossi answered, relaxing a bit.

"Enterprise will be leaving orbit as soon as our people get back on board. If you're interested, we can give you a ride," Archer offered to Rossi. Even though Enterprise was far more comfortable and faster than whatever transport Starfleet had scheduled for Rossi, Captain Archer wasn't acting unselfishly. He intended to have a long and direct talk with the Commander. _If he knows or suspects anything about Terra Primers infiltrating Starfleet, I intend to find out about it_, Jon thought.

"Does the ride include meals, sir? Ration packs are not my thing, after all," Rossi answered. He had a friendly smile on his face, but his thought processes concluded that Archer, and Reed as well, would be interrogating him during his stay on Enterprise if he accepted the offer. He could decline. At least three excuses ran through his head. Instead, he decided to board Enterprise, deciding that maybe he could gather some information as well.

Archer and Reed laughed at the Commander's words. "What about dinner with the senior staff? You haven't met our Chief Engineer or Commander T'Pol," Archer suggested.

Rossi nodded in agreement. "I'll see you later then. Sir, Lieutenant," he said in farewell, and the communication ended.

Both Malcolm and Archer watched the console until the communication ended and Enterprise's data display appeared again. The captain was still trying to decide how could he convince Starfleet to let them go after the Chimera while Malcolm re-filled his coffee cup. Reed's action took Archer out of his musings, and he remembered the Lieutenant's words about Bern. _How many things do I not know about Malcolm? _ Archer thought while looking at the coffee pouring into Reed's cup.

"Coffee, sir?" Reed asked. Archer nodded. The sound of liquid in motion was the only sound in the Ready Room.

The Captain took the pad and started reading Malcolm's plan. They spent the next hour discussing it in detail until Archer was satisfied. Reed would run background checks on every crew member – using any means at his disposal.

"I'll decide on the next step based on your results, Lieutenant," said Archer in a satisfied tone, as if the problem was already solved and the entire crew had already been cleared of suspicion.

Malcolm had always envied the Captain's naivety and good will. He himself was a pessimist, after all, and couldn't help but presume the worse for every situation he was involved in. This one was no different.

"Malcolm, have you contacted Harris yet?" The captain asked.

"Not yet, sir" Malcolm said.

Archer looked at him questioningly, but Reed didn't explain himself. "I'll let you know as soon as I reach him, sir."

"Good" was the captain's answer.

XII.-

T'Pol dropped her Vulcan cushions on her bed, finishing her morning ritual: shower, dress, make bed, order cushions, and turned towards the door to leave her quarters. She looked at it and stopped, her eyes returning to her bed. The feel of Trip's touch on her belly was clear in her mind, the scratchy sensation his stubbled cheeks made on hers still tingling. The effect his kisses had on her breathing caused her nostrils to expand in a deep breath. She closed her eyes in a failed attempt to regain her composure. A tiny, almost undetectable, smile crossed her lips. Her eyes opened and she faced the door again. _He is most likely waiting for me in the Mess Hall_ she thought.

An almost uncontrollable desire to leave and run to his side washed over her, but she refrained. T'Pol was glad he'd come to her yesterday. She would not have called for him, even though she missed his presence deeply. Her logic would have prevented it. It would have told her that he was probably doing something useful somewhere else. It would not be logical to interrupt him because she was nostalgic. The bond allowed her to sense what he was doing, not in detail but clearly enough to identify if he was busy or not. She didn't sense busy right now, but anxiousness and sorrow. _We must discuss our situation,_ crossed her mind. Her legs moved in controlled steps as she left her quarters.

On her way to the Mess Hall, Commander T'Pol ordered her thoughts, and decided her discussion with Commander Tucker would have to wait until a proper venue for such an intimate talk was available. During today's breakfast she would learn about Orpheus' engines while enjoying a cup of tea and some Earth fruits. This last desire was one of the many unVulcan customs she had adopted while on Enterprise. She was not supposed to enjoy meals, but she did, especially peaches and strawberries.

She encountered a number of crewmembers on her walk from her quarters and greeted them with curt Vulcan nods, so typical coming from her. Most of them saw and saluted Commander T'Pol, the Science Officer, a strong, intelligent woman, and nobody saw T'Pol, the complex, compassionate and vulnerable person she had become. She was Vulcan, after all.

While entering the Mess Hall, she saw Trip sitting at a table next to a viewport, his hands around a coffee mug, his eyes looking into space. She ordered tea and walked towards him.

He had been sitting alone, staring into the stars for the last five minutes, his coffee cooling between his hands. His mind wondered what the day would bring, what T'Pol would tell him, if she agreed to talk. He could still feel her warm touch on his face, his back, his hands. A smile reached his eyes, and he lowered his face, hiding behind his cup while drinking some coffee, self-conscious of his expression. Trip heard someone saluting him and he turned to see who it was – Crewman Davies from security. He nodded back and spotted T'Pol walking towards him. He thought about restraining himself, but he didn't. He enjoyed watching her openly while she approached him, his eyes traveling down from hers to her hips and then back up to her lips, focusing there until she sat next to him. The sound her cup made when it touched the table made Trip blink and look back at her eyes. Warm dark brown greeted him.

"Want anything special for breakfast?" he asked her while standing up.

"Fruit salad," she said.

He nodded and walked towards the buffet in search of their breakfast. Her first impulse was to follow him with her eyes to study the way he moved while walking – his back, his arms. Instead, she breathed deeply, concentrating on her tea cup, the steam flowing out from it, the smell of chamomile strong in front of her, her mind blank, until he came back.

A couple of minutes later, Trip sat down next to her and both of them ate in silence.

"We need to talk," he said suddenly. She turned her head to look at him. Her eyes were calm but the tightness around her lips gave her away.

"I agree," T'Pol told him. "But I would rather wait until we are in private," she added.

"Tonight?" he asked. She agreed with a slight nod.

"What did you find regarding Orpheus engines?" she asked, redirecting his attention to safer terrain.

"Before I fill you in about that, the captain ordered us to prepare a detailed inventory related to a sensor upgrade that's going to be installed as soon as we leave Mars – Vulcan design," he finished wriggling his eyebrows. "Do you have any plans for this morning?" he asked her.

"No, but I don't believe you'll need my assistance to finish an inventory" she answered. Trip smiled at her teasingly.

"It's a Vulcan upgrade. I'm sure that we'll finish a lot faster if you're there."

She pursed her lips slightly. _Doubtful_. "Where are the sensors going to be installed?"

"Jupiter Station," Trip said as he buttered his toast.

"Will you be supervising the upgrades?"

"Not sure. The crew's going on shore leave. I…haven't made my mind yet." Trip looked at her for a while.

"Will you go with me?" he asked her quietly. He had been thinking about going to a quiet beach he liked. He was pretty sure she would like it too.

She raised her eyes from the fruit salad she had been eating and looked at Trip. His expression was guarded, his eyes intent on her. A salty smell washed over her, a moist breeze seemed to pass through her hair. She frowned slightly. _The beach,_ she thought. She was certain both of them would benefit from some time alone together. There was much to talk about and agree upon.

"Will we have time for historical and geographical visits?" she asked him while piercing a slice of fresh peach with her fork.

"Sight seeing?" his voice said, amused.

"Essentially," she answered without looking at him.

Trip chuckled, nodding at her. She raised a brow at him, amusement evident in her eyes.

When had she first allowed herself to engage in these games with him? He couldn't remember exactly. They had argued since day one, but at some point, from time to time, it had become a game, a subtle, difficult to notice, flirting and teasing give and take between them. He had never seen her do it with anybody else. Was it because of all those hours they'd spent talking during neuropressure? _Probably_, he thought. Somehow, during that dark period of their lives they'd won each others trust. For him, it had become clear when he'd let go and cried for his sister in front of her without feeling shame or self-consciousness. T'Pol's change, on the other hand, hadn't been so abrupt. It had unfolded slowly through the months they had spent together since then. She'd done it in her own way, showing him her real self: witty, compassionate, tender and even sweet. _Maybe she's not even aware of it_, he thought. Her eyes returned to his with a questioning look. He had been watching her tenderly this whole time. He shook his head slightly to let her know everything was fine.

"Are you finished?" she asked him, returning him to the here and now.

"Yep" he said. "Let's go meet with the Captain, Soval'll be here any minute now. I'll tell you about the Vulcan nacelles on our way there."

"What Vulcan nacelles?" T'Pol asked while picking her cup and dish.

"Paxton's," Trip said, shocking her.


	5. Chapter 5

There Are No Shadows in the Dark

XIII.-

Ambassador Soval sat alone in the meeting room in the diplomatic shuttle that was transporting him to Enterprise. The room's dark coppery and sandy coloring highlighted the dark greenish and golden lines on his elegant suit. In front of him lay a series of pads containing the reports Starfleet investigating teams had generated during the few days they had had access to Terra Prime's material and evidence, as well as detailed Vulcan documentation regarding non-military nacelle designs and – something that had disgusted him deeply – classified genetic research results on Vulcan and Human DNA.

After V'Las' fall, many Vulcan government organizations had been investigated and audited, resulting in profound changes in their administration and purposes. The Science Directorate and its branches had been spared until now. He was certain that a thorough investigation would reveal political influences resulting in altered research findings. Soval's logical mind protested. How was it possible that such reputable scientists had been convinced to report misleading results? What arguments had V'Las' officers used to persuade them?

His mind discarded any explanation, logical or not, that the scientists were likely to offer for their actions. He concluded that the ending of the Science Directorate as it had been known and the appointment of a new scientific authority was the only viable solution. Credibility would be lost regarding every scientific statement produced in the last two decade as soon as the facts he had just read were publicized. It was inevitable. Reputations would be tainted, lifetime works would be lost. It was a high price to pay, but Vulcan had to re-build its foundation based on logic and truth.

His eyes focused on Starfleet's last report. He remembered Forrest, and the many meetings, conferences and talks they had engaged in during all those years, so different from the current situation. Soval recognized the feeling – nostalgia. His trained mind discarded the sensation and replaced it with productive thoughts. A plan should be defined so he could establish better communications with his friend's substitute. _I'm deceiving myself again…friendship is a human concept, _he thought._ I should meditate on the journey back to San Francisco,_ he decided.

The sound of the pilot's voice announcing that they would be docking with Enterprise in 74 seconds, was answered with a requirement from the Ambassador. "Connect me with Captain Archer immediately," his voice replied in deep melodious Vulcan.

Archer's ready room was crowded with his senior staff. T'Pol, Trip and Malcolm were sitting around his desk. They had reviewed – again – the reports from Starfleet Intelligence, mostly to update the Commanders who had returned to duty that morning._ It was quite productive,_ Jon thought.T'Pol's insight and unemotional views regarding the few facts and several theories they had reviewed was grounding. He had missed her down-to-Earth comments. He smiled to himself. _Well actually, I should say "down-to-Vulcan" comments_, he mused. Trip, surprisingly, had listened most of the time, only asking questions focused on topics that needed further investigation. Jon realized that he was controlling himself. He'd flushed red in anger a couple of times but said nothing, just looked at the stars each time.

"We don't expect updates until tomorrow morning," Malcolm informed T'Pol. "But we may get some news this evening. Commander Rossi will be joining us for dinner," he added. She looked at him and nodded silently. Her experience told her that Soval would clarify some of the hypotheses they had reviewed. It was the only logical explanation for his journey to Enterprise.

"Captain, we have an incoming call from Ambassador Soval. His shuttle will be docking with us in about a minute or so," Hoshi's replacement said, distracting T'Pol from her thoughts.

"Put him through," Archer's voice sounded in front of her.

"Captain Archer." Soval's voice was clearly heard by the four of them.

"Ambassador," Archer returned. His voice sounded relaxed as if he was greeting a long time friend and not the Vulcan Ambassador to Earth.

Trip noticed and smiled to himself. _Who would have thought_?

"I'd rather meet with you on board the Gol, if it is not much trouble for you Captain," Soval offered stoically.

"Sure. We're on our way," Archer said, frowning. _Why not here?_ he thought, looking at Malcolm as the communication ended.

"What's going on?" Trip asked.

"No idea," Archer said.

The three men looked at T'Pol, who looked back at them nonplussed. She stood up and walked to the door. "I believe it would be wise to board the Gol as soon as possible," she told them, pressing the opening button.

"Malcolm, you have the bridge," the Captain told Reed while leaving the Ready Room.

Their walk to the airlock was silent, each of them hypothesizing the reasons that could explain Soval's invitation. Archer thought that the ambassador was aware of the presence of Terra Primers on Enterprise. T'Pol concluded that whatever it was that the Ambassador was about to communicate to them must be delicate enough to avoid any chance of eavesdropping.

When the shuttle's airlock opened, they were received by a Vulcan officer who escorted them to the meeting room where Soval was waiting for them. As soon as they arrived, the Ambassador stood up and greeted them with handshakes, except for T'Pol, whom he greeted in Vulcan. Trip didn't recognize the words. Whatever Soval said to T'Pol wasn't the usual "live long and prosper" he had memorized a while ago. He looked at her, checking to see if she was fine with it, and, apparently, she was. Actually, she thanked the older man in response. He felt it again, a warm breeze. He recognized it as their bond. This time, it brought her sorrow as well as gratitude. She caught him looking at her and saw his concern. Her eyes warmed, soothing him.

Soval's words of sympathy surprised her. It wasn't usual for him to reach out to others in situations like these. The old mourning verse he had spoken had kindled her sorrow again, forcing T'Pol to concentrate on suppressing its effects. It wasn't as difficult as it had been in previous days, but she had to consciously focus on it. She looked at Trip and caught his eyes still on her. She wished they were alone.

"Please take a seat," Soval offered, and each of Enterprise's officers took seats in front of him. He looked at each of them before speaking. His eyes finally settled on T'Pol, who was patiently looking back at him.

"I'm here on behalf of Vulcan's High Council, and authorized by Starfleet Command," he started. Archer frowned, listening carefully. T'Pol didn't show anything openly, and Trip was surprised with the Ambassador's solemnity.

"The facts I am about to explain to you are, in some cases, classified, and in others part of an ongoing investigation," he continued.

"We all understand what you mean, Ambassador. But before you go on, and forgive me for asking so bluntly... Why are you here?" Archer interrupted him.

Soval's eyebrows rose slightly and his breathing deepened. Regardless of his respect for Archer, he still considered the man irritating.

"As I said before, I'm here on behalf…," Soval started to answer. But Archer raised his hand to stop him.

"That's not what I meant. Sorry. Why didn't Starfleet inform us directly? And it's not that I'm not glad to see you again," the captain said, smiling slightly.

The Ambassador's eyes lowered to the table for a couple of seconds before returning to Archer's. "I insisted that Starfleet Command allow me to be the one to bring this information to you – all of you," Soval answered.

"Why here and not on Enterprise?" Archer asked.

Soval's jaw tightened slightly. "There is some information I am about to disclose to you that is not part of the purpose of this official visit. I believe that can be accomplished safely in here."

His answer left Archer speechless. "May I continue?" asked Soval. Archer nodded.

"The nacelles used by Paxton on his facility are indeed of Vulcan origin," Soval told them.

"The design was developed over a hundred years ago while Vulcan was at war with the Rihannsu. Its main purpose was to propel support facilities for our troops. After the discovery of defective self-destruction mechanisms that permitted the loss of several of these facilities by enemy hands, it was determined to be a faulty design and not used again, until now," he explained. His words reverberated through T'Pol's head. Earlier she had argued with Trip about the feasibility of his assumption about the nacelles' origin. It wasn't logical, she had told him, for Paxton to use alien technology, nor was logical for aliens to support his organization. _His instincts were correct, logical or not_, she thought.

"Who are these Rihannsu? We've never met them. Why would they help Terra Prime?" Trip asked.

"We have met them," T'Pol said. Both human males looked at her, confused. "They are also known as Romulans," she explained.

Archer's mind listed the occasions when he had heard about Romulans: the mine field and the invisible ships; the drones piloted by the Aenar Gareb, and Agent Daniel's future library and that book about the Romulan Empire that he hadn't been allowed to read.

"Does Vulcan have contact with them?" asked Trip.

"After the hostilities were suspended, no diplomatic or commercial contacts were officially established. But the Vulcan Security Ministry has monitored Romulan activities wherever they have emerged."

"Where?" asked Archer.

"The Orion Syndicate, where they have bought enslaved laborers for centuries, Coridan for their mineral supplies, Rigel X and XII for the black markets. We have information that indicates that they have some kind of arrangement with the Klingon Empire," Soval said before taking one of his pads and giving it to T'Pol. He spoke to her in Vulcan and her face tightened.

The older man had advised her about Romulan activity on Vulcan while handing a pad containing detailed information about it. Realizing the extent of their activities caused her pulse to quicken, especially after recognizing some of the names on the list of suspected collaborators. _V'Las, Doctor Kalev the Science Academy's director, Stel… how many others are involved?, _ she thought to herself. The sound of Trip's voice broke her focus on the pad.

"Where else?" asked Trip, while looking at T'Pol and feeling her concern.

"Vulcan and Earth," the Ambassador told him. Trip frowned. Archer started to ask if Starfleet was informed, but Soval stopped him with his hand.

"Gentlemen, I have not finished," the older man said, his voice deeper than usual. The humans settled into an uncomfortable silence, their emotions, mostly fear and anxiety, filling the room as if a thin fog was surrounding them.

"Vulcan's High Council has decided to aid Earth against the Romulans. Our involvement should not be disclosed to avoid alienating Andoria and Tellar, and also to prevent any increase on Romulan activity on Earth and Vulcan until their intentions are discovered," Soval continued.

"Any ideas what that may be?" Trip asked, his eyes narrowing.

The older man's eyebrows rose in exhaustion before he answered. "Our governments believe it might be related to Earth's success against the Xindi…but I do not."

At the mention of the Xindi, Archer's face sombered. Even though they had been successful, it had been too high a price to pay. _Not again_, he thought to himself. Soval's obvious disagreement with their governments made him smile and regain hope somehow.

"What's your theory?" Jon asked the older man.

"After Administrator V'Las' government ended, a series of irregularities were uncovered in several of our institutions. The High Command was the most affected, as you are aware, but the Security Ministry was dissolved as well. Romulan activities on Vulcan were not initially disclosed to the Ministers, except for V'Las of course, nor to the public. Minister T'Pau and the rest of the ruling ministers were informed as soon as the information was confirmed. It's logical to think that Romulan activity on Vulcan and Romulan sympathizers persist in their actions," the Ambassador explained.

"You believe there are still Romulan sympathizers infiltrated in Vulcan's government," T´Pol finished Soval's thoughts. The older man nodded.

"I am certain of that. What we do not know for the time being is how far this infiltration goes. Minister T'Pau agreed to help Earth without our involvement being disclosed, so we will be able to gain time to continue our investigations," Soval added.

Trip felt T'Pol's agitation as a tingling sensation at the back of his head. His eyes went to hers again. She looked calm as always, her slightly faster breathing rhythm was the only sign that gave her away.

"I guess our people don't know about this, do they?" Archer asked.

"You are correct, Captain. They do not."

Enterprise's officers processed this piece of information in silence until Trip spoke up. "If it's not the Xindi, then what is it that the Romulans are after?"

Soval eyes turned to him – sizing him up. The chief engineer hadn't lost his focus. _Commander Tucker is able to isolate his thinking processes from shocking distractions. He is still following his prey. Why Earth? Remarkable._

"Vulcan's isolation from our allies," Soval announced.

"I'm sorry, Ambassador, but I don't follow," Trip said, his eyes hard on Soval.

"I believe the Rihannsu decided to use Terra Prime and Earth's post-traumatic effects after the Xindi attack to isolate Earth from Vulcan. They chose your people carefully. They have been studying you for years. Earth is Vulcan's ally, the primary one most likely to support us in war or disaster, regardless of the situation. This fact would bring some of Earth's allies to support Vulcan as well," he elaborated, tiredness showing on his face.

"Why would you postulate this theory?" T'Pol asked him.

"V'Las' behavior had been consistent. The decision not to aid Earth after the Xindi attack was not unanimous among the High Command ministers. It was V'Las imposition." The older man paused and looked at them.

Archer's expression was guarded but surprised. Commander Tucker's expressiveness showed clearly that finally the Vulcan's actions made sense to him. As for T'Pol, her jaw tightened subtly and her eyes blazed with outrage, which was no surprise to Soval. He had known her for many years and he empathized with her feelings. He had been outraged when he heard of the decision for the first time, as well as when the reasons behind it were uncovered.

"V'Las was an opportunistic man. I believe he seized the opportunity the Xindi gave him to accomplish his goal. If Earth had been destroyed, Vulcan would have lost a faithful ally. The message given to the stellar community would have been a damaging one to Vulcan. The result would have been most certainly isolation from some, if not all our allies. Fortunately, Earth prevailed." Soval paused a moment before continuing.

Archer remembered the talks he'd had with Soval after they returned from the Expanse, his emotional outbreaks as well as Soval's thanks for saving Vulcan as well. _Was he thanking me for avoiding this, too? _he thought. Maybe if there was a chance he'd ask Soval sometime.

"The unsuccessful invasion of Andoria was another attempt to debilitate Vulcan, the opportunity the Romulans have been waiting for to attack us again," the old man told them.

"What does Paxton have to do with all of this? Why would he accept help from aliens?" Trip asked anxiously.

"Nothing at all. The information we posses indicates that Paxton was not aware of the alien aid he received," Soval said, puzzling Trip even more.

"Mr. Paxton's goal was to return Earth to its rightful owners as he himself said, which would mean isolation from other species, including Vulcans. He was useful. Terra Prime was contacted years ago by Romulan agents, they had exchanged information as well as technology since then." Soval's slow and slightly monotonous voice filled the room while Trip watched him.

"How long have you known about Romulan activity on Earth?" Archer asked.

"The classified report was forwarded to the Embassy seventeen weeks ago. The connection with Terra Prime was uncovered more recently," Soval said calmly.

"What kind of information do you think they have about us?" Jon asked.

"Most of the investigation results have not been confirmed. However, Vulcan Intelligence is certain that they were able to acquire Human technology – several freighter ships and weapons," T'Pol said offering the pad she had been reading to the Captain. The name Chimera reverberated through Archer's skull, his eyes focused on Soval's unblinking eyes as if in a trance.

"The Chimera?" he asked and turned to look at T'Pol.

"There is no mention of the ships' names," she said.

"At least we have a pretty good idea about who provided Paxton with alien technology. Now we just have to find this damn Chimera," Trip said while rubbing his forehead. Phlox's words went through his mind as if he were reading music – enclosed between parallel lines, some letters up others down – _"__deep knowledge of both Vulcan and Human immunological systems…" _ He was about to ask about it but T'Pol beat him to it.

"Did the Rihannsu have access to Vulcan medical or genetic information?" she asked in a clear voice.

Soval breathed deeply before answering T'Pol. "It is a possibility that is being investigated as we speak," he said.

"Investigated where?" Trip asked in a low voice.

"At the Vulcan Science Directorate," the older man said. "A series of previously undisclosed scientific investigations were brought to light recently. At least one of them is suspected to be linked to Paxton's cloning process."

"What kind of investigation?" Trip asked again.

Soval gave another pad to T'Pol, who was looking at him, unmoving. "Vulcan/Human genetic compatibility," he said. Confusion showed on Archer's face. "I thought that they had determined that Vulcan and Humans can't reproduce," he voiced.

"You are correct, Captain, that was the primary result. However the continuing investigations revealed that it is possible through minor genetic manipulation," Soval voiced uncomfortably.

"Since when did they know about this?" Trip said.

Soval's shoulders straightened and he moved back slightly before answering Trip. If he were human his body language would have given away the shame he felt, but he was not, so it passed as a Vulcan mannerism to both humans. Only T'Pol recognized the uncomfortable situation the Ambassador was in.

"47 Earth years." His words filled the gloomy silence in the room.

T'Pol eyes focused directly on the older man's face. Her voice was steady and low when she asked, "How much of this information have the Romulans had access to?" Soval's response was worse than anyone expected.

"The facts we have confirmed so far indicate that the Rihannsu have had access to the Science Directorate findings for the last thirty years," he replied somberly.

"I'll be damned," Trip said. Both of his hands went to his head and through his hair before he asked, "What about your technological and military research?"

"If it was under any of the Science Directorate branches it's most likely in their possession," the Ambassador said, spreading his hands on the table's surface.

"I guess keeping a low profile in any Romulan related issue would be the logical thing to do, then, wouldn't it?" Trip said more than asked.

Archer looked at him, raising both his eyebrows. Trip was right. In this scenario, Vulcan shouldn't risk attracting Romulan attention. It would be too dangerous. _So much for classified material,_ he thought. "If your suspicions are confirmed, your position against the Romulans is quite weak...but you already know that, don't you?" Jon asked.

"Indeed Captain, we do," Soval said.

"What do you want us to do?" Jon asked openly.

Trip had been watching the last exchange of words intently. He thought he was imagining things when he noticed an almost imperceptible change on Soval's face – relief.

"If the time comes and Earth is attacked by the Rihannsu in the near future, we will need your support in convincing Starfleet and your government that Vulcan cannot be involved openly in any military actions against them. We will aid Earth unconditionally, but our participation must be kept confidential," Soval voiced calmly.

Archer nodded in agreement. "Let's hope that won't happen," he said.

"It most likely will." The Ambassador's words chilled Trip, who had been looking at T'Pol. His eyes returned to Soval just before he continued. Soval took a small data storage device from his pocket and gave it to Archer. "Earth must be prepared," he told him. "I believe you will be able to pass this information where it will be most useful," he finished.

"What's in here?" Archer asked while looking at the small disk.

"Information about Romulan activities on Earth as well as all of Vulcan knowledge on their technology," Soval answered calmly.

Jon looked at the older man for some time in silence. "Why not give this directly to Star Fleet?" he asked finally.

"It is too much of a risk, Captain. Vulcan can not be linked to any action against the Romulan Empire until their sympathizers are identified and accounted for. Our current government is not strong enough. Civil unrest would be as debilitating as any of V'Las' past actions," T'Pol said before Soval could answer. The older Vulcan looked at her and approved her conclusions with a subtle nod.

Archer's face tightened at hearing his first officer's words. He hadn't previously been aware of the situation on Vulcan. He looked at Soval and offered his hand.

"I'll do whatever I can to help you" he announced. The ambassador studied Archer's face, noticing the stress lines in his forehead, the graying hair at his temples, the lack of the childlike, enthusiastic light his eyes had worn when he'd left spacedock, defying Vulcan advice. Even though the human had gained much experience during his time in command of Enterprise, his emotions, trust, in this case, were still ruling much of his decisions.

While taking Archer's offered hand, his words filled the strained silence that had descended on them. "You have not changed. This is a reckless decision, Captain. You should analyze the implications of what I am asking from you before committing yourself."

_You haven't changed either, you old fart, _Jon thought while smiling and shaking his head.

Archer's amused expression surprised the old man. _Irritating human_, Soval thought once again.

"I guess you'll never get it, Ambassador. But as we humans say, that's what friends are for," Archer quipped.

_Presumptuous as well,_ the old Vulcan thought while glaring at Archer.

The pact was sealed. Success has been achieved. Soval had not doubted the outcome of this endeavor. Captain Archer was predictable, after all. Even if Archer had distrusted the Vulcan's offer, Soval had anticipated that Commander Tucker would have believed him, and in doing so would have helped him convince Archer.

The walk to the airlock that would get them back to Enterprise was quiet, each of them engrossed in their own thoughts. Archer was getting used to the idea of being sucked into another war. _Starfleet is not a military organization. We're not ready_.

Trip, thinking along the same lines and worrying about T'Pol, mused_, Would the Romulans focus on her because she is the only Vulcan serving in Starfleet?_

T'Pol, planning the research she would conduct on the information Soval had provided them, focused her mind away from the emotions Soval's words had elicited. _This is neither the time nor the venue, _she repeated to herself again and again.

The turbolift's ride seemed longer than usual to Archer. He was eager to get to the bridge. _Finally,_ he thought when the doors opened. Malcolm, seated in the command chair, joined the others in the captain's ready room at Archer's gesture. Once the door was closed, Archer handed the pad containing Soval's precious classified information to T'Pol. He addressed his First Officer and his Chief of Security.

"Give this a full review and bring me a detailed report as soon as possible," he told them. Malcolm turned to T'Pol with a puzzled expression. She tipped her head toward the exit.

"To the situation room, Lieutenant. I'll explain when we get there," she said briskly. Malcolm raised an intrigued brow as he followed her out of the door.

Jon sat down, leaned his head back on his armchair and closed his eyes for a while. Trip stood standing, his arms crossed and his eyes on the stars visible through the viewport.

"How long do you think we have?" Trip said.

"Not much. Months, maybe a year."

"We're not ready, Cap'n," Trip's voice came out lower than usual.

"I know." The man looking back at Trip had aged before his eyes. Tiredness showed on all of his features.

_We're supposed to be explorers,_ Trip thought while looking at Archer. He understood the Captain's feelings. They were supposed to be discovering, meeting new species, opening commercial interchanges. War was never a part of Star Fleet purposes. Nor was it something Archer or his father ever wanted to be involved with. But it was a threat – again – so they'd have to cope.


	6. Chapter 6

There Are No Shadows in the Dark

XIV.-

He was supposed to be eating his lunch, not standing in front of a seldomly used terminal at the starboard nacelle's access tube. He hoped T'Pol wouldn't be asking him about his whereabouts after not seeing him in the Mess Hall. _Bloody Harris and his instructions, _Malcolm thought. Even after all the time he had served the Section and all the times he'd had to lie to fulfill his assignments, he had never gotten used to it. "_It's not my cup of tea," as Trip would say in his lousy British accent. _Malcolm's thoughts drifted to his friend. He smiled in spite of himself, remembering Trip's face when he had answered the engineer about being sent to the brig. He was grateful to Captain Archer for ordering him not to let anyone know their arrangement. He didn't have to lie to the Chief Engineer just find a way not to tell him anything. Trip's expression had been priceless when he'd replied, in his very best fake southern accent, "Keep your shirt on, Commander. I'm staying on board."

His eyes went to the display, where he typed in his code and the string of numbers Harris had attached to his instructions. Malcolm wondered about what kind of security settings were available in this specific terminal. _If I check the maintenance logs I probably won't find anything special about it,_ he mused.

_Where was it changed and who did it? Probably after we came back from our encounter with Harrad Sar … so the NX team at Jupiter Station must be the ones, then__, or maybe during the conference. There was a team from Starfleet Warp R&D that came on board, _Malcolm remembered. _I'll ask Harris directly_, he decided finally. Considering the information Soval gave them, it was possible that Harris would tell him the truth. It was worth a try, at any rate.

"Lieutenant Reed, I thought you informed me you wouldn't be contacting me again, ever," Harris greeted him, amusement evident in his voice.

Malcolm's face tightened subtly. _You do what you have to._ His father's remembrance was clear in his mind. "I suppose you are aware of the results of the Terra Prime investigation. There is some data that we need," Malcolm said without preamble.

"We, being Archer and yourself, I assume. I suppose I'll be indebted to your captain for doing my job and bringing you back into active service." Harris kept up his pestering line of dialog.

_Haven't you ever heard the saying__, "He who laughs last, laughs best"?_ Malcolm thought to himself. _There's another word for laughter that my father liked to use_, he mused distractedly. It was right on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't seem to remember it.

"You'll be indebted to the Captain, I'm certain of that. We have information that I believe you'll be interested in, but before we go into that... Who is Klaus Bern? And where is the Chimera?" Malcolm asked.

"I'm sending you everything we have on Mr. Bern and his ship. Actually, I should say... what is left of his ship," Harris told him while smiling placidly.

Malcolm's eyes narrowed, his lips becoming a thin line, enraged. _Here we go again, one step behind, _he thought while reading the data that was shown on his screen. The Chimera was believed to have been destroyed by a Klingon war ship not 24 hours ago. The data on Bern was insightful, though. The guy was a mercenary. He'd worked for the Vulcans for some time as an observer while on board a series of illegal freighters that visited Coridan regularly. The list of people related to him and his business was large. Graves' name caught his attention immediately.

"What did Soval tell you? If I may ask, of course," Harris asked, distracting Malcolm from his reading. It was no surprise to him that the Section was already aware of Soval's visit – but he would bet a considerable amount of credits that they had no idea about the topics discussed. Malcolm's features relaxed and a tiny – almost unnoticeable – smile graced his lips before he answered Harris.

_Mirth, that's the word,_ he remembered triumphantly. _It's my turn to be mirthful now. Who said revenge wasn't sweet?_

"Plenty" he informed Harris.

"About what?"

"Romulan activity on Earth, among other things," Malcolm voiced while watching Harris smugly. He picked up the older's man controlled reaction – surprise. _I got you, you old bugger. Bloody hell, I did!_ Reed had never seen surprise on the man's face before.

"What's your Captain's offer, Lieutenant?" Harris said in a low almost menacing tone.

"Mutual co-operation."

Upon hearing Reed's words, Harris pursed his lips in frustration. He had never been comfortable with mutual commitments. The upper hand was his thing, but this time he wasn't certain it would do. _I'll try anyway, _he thought without conviction. He himself had trained Reed so he knew the man could be trusted on being thorough. _Exceptionally so_, he remembered.

"When can we meet?" This wasn't the next step Malcolm had predicted. It was strange. Harris was never eager for meetings.

"We'll be arriving in San Francisco tomorrow before noon."

"All right, then, I'll contact you to let you know where and when," Harris said before severing the connection abruptly.

"Wait…" He didn't have time to tell Harris about the crew background checks he needed done.

His fingers typed in a series of commands to check for outside accesses into Enterprise's main computers, and there it was: a full scan of any files accessed by himself this morning. _Underestimated, that's what I am, _he thought while smiling broadly. The encrypted file he planted with his mother's pineapple cake recipe had just been transferred out. _Hope you like it._ His chuckle echoed through the access tube while he retraced his steps on his way back to the Mess Hall. The plan was working, the bait was in the open and apparently Harris had bitten – so to speak. He also was right in his suspicions about the Section accessing Enterprise's data bases. Now Harris was certain that they were aware of it. Malcolm remembered the look T'Pol had given him when he suggested keeping the data on the Vulcan pad and not transferring it to Enterprise's main computer. She had understood his apprehension immediately.

He stopped at the turbolift, waiting for it to get to E deck. His face calmed. The look in his eyes was clear – hiding his concern. He was certain about what they were getting into, but was Captain Archer?

_I'd say the leverage is on our side, for now. But for how long? _Reed thought before stepping in.

XV.-

Upon entering the observation deck she noticed that the table was set for eight. _Travis will be joining us, _she thought. She was early as usual, so she decided to enjoy the little time she had alone, admiring the viewports that showed some of the constellations visible from Mars. Enterprise was on its way to Jupiter station for repairs and some down time for its crew. Ensign Sato was tired and grateful for the opportunity to put some time and distance between herself and recent events. She wanted to go home and spent time with her family.

The decoding of Paxton's files had demanded long hours of sleep deprived work, but the facts she had read were far worse and had affected her more than she realized. Her mind had drifted to her home several times since Captain Archer told her about shore leave, which was unusual. Most of her previous vacations had been used to spend time with a group of friends in some exotic place on Earth whose language she didn't know that well. Every time she'd told her family that she'd visit they'd ended up waiting for her in vain. _Not this time, _she thought while walking to a small side table where water was available.

_I hope this dinner won't end being some kind of stressful event, I'm not in the mood…_ Her mental complaint ended in synchrony with her getting closer to a viewport.

The door opened and Captain Archer and Malcolm walked in. She picked up a couple of words from their conversation before they saw her. _It seems that Malcolm won't be going on shore leave, _she thought in unexpected disappointment while turning around to greet them.

She had no opportunity to ask Reed about him staying on board. Trip and T'Pol arrived as soon as the door closed behind the Captain. A couple of minutes later, Commander Rossi came in, clean shaven and visibly less tired_. He was right after all, two hours of sleep did do wonders for him,_ she thought with admiration while he walked to where she and the others were talking.

"Captain, thank you for the ride again, sir," Rossi said while offering his hand.

"It won't be for free, Commander. I expect you to keep me informed about your findings," Archer said while shaking Rossi's hand.

The tall man smiled and nodded. "I've figured that out already, sir".

When the Captain introduced Rossi to the Commanders, she noticed that while he shook Trip's hand, he only nodded as a greeting for T'Pol, a gesture that the Vulcan returned. They didn't have to wait long before Phlox and Travis arrived.

Fortunately, Hoshi's wishes came true. Dinner was quite relaxed, even though she noticed the Captain's dark mood. _What is he worrying about?_ Trip was quieter than usual too, less outgoing than he used to be. She knew this wasn't a coincidence, but she attributed it to the information they'd uncovered by decoding Paxton's files.

Most of the conversation was led by Phlox and, surprisingly, T'Pol, whose interest was piqued by Commander Rossi's talk about the diverse effects and reactions of Earth's different population groups after the end of the Xindi threat.

Hoshi's choice for dessert surprised Malcolm. He was always teasing her about only eating fruits because it was healthier than eating sweets. Tonight she wanted a sweet, creamy, comforting cheese cake dressed with strawberry sauce and a piece of dark chocolate. The look he gave her spoke volumes. Hoshi smiled at him and shrugged. Soon dinner will be over and she'd be able to practice some yoga and get a good night sleep.

Apparently, Malcolm realized how tired she was, or maybe she was just imagining things, but as soon as her tea was over he stood up and told the Captain that he had some reports to finish, which everybody, except Rossi and the Captain, used as their cue to leave.

She watched Trip and T'Pol walk to the door while Malcolm waited for her next to the captain's chair. Hoshi smiled at Archer before passing by him and catching up to Reed, who walked her to the door.

"Still suffering from your all nighter?" he murmured without looking at her, his eyes focused on fingering the door opening mechanism. Hoshi looked at his profile before answering

"A little…" she said while exiting the room. Reed smiled while watching her.

"You'll get over it. There's nothing a good yoga session won't cure, is there?" he mocked her.

"Don't start Malcolm. I'm not in the mood." Her voice was all he heard. He couldn't see her face, but her smile was obvious anyway.

"Same old, same old," he said before laughing out loud. She turned and gave him an outraged look. His teasing had the effect he was looking for. She ended up laughing with him, relaxing in the process.

"Come on," Malcolm told her while walking in the direction of the turbolift.

XVI.-

Trip heard Malcolm's laughter just before the turbolift's door closed. He wondered what was so funny while massaging his injured shoulder. It had been hurting some since mid-afternoon but he'd decided to ignore it to ensure he had enough time to study the Vulcan's sensor schematics and finish the inventory the Captain had ordered.

T'Pol's touch on his hand was warm and soft. Concern was evident in her eyes. _There you go again, sweetie... not worryin'_ he thought while smiling at her.

"I'm OK," he said. She ignored him.

"How much pain are you in?" she asked him while rubbing his shoulder softly.

"Depends…" She cocked her head to one side waiting for him to explain.

"Are you going to massage me like this if it only hurts a little?" he teased her.

T'Pol took a deep breath and she pursed her lips slightly, then her eyes settled on his, unguarded. "If it only hurts a little you would have told me right away, so I presume it hurts more than a little."

"I'm just tired, that's all," Trip told her, his tender look still on her.

It was disarming whenever his feelings appeared clearly on his face or in his eyes. She couldn't help but react emotionally. Her eyes filled with tears and her throat tightened. It was amazing the effect one of his loving looks could have on her. T'Pol was thankful that he managed to restrain himself while on duty or while being accompanied by others. _He knows,_ she thought.

The turbolift's doors opened, distracting them both. The walk towards T'Pol's quarters was short and in silence.

Trip liked her quarters – always had. The atmosphere had a calming effect on him – the bed clothes' coloring, her cushions, T'Pol's candles, the smell. He could recognize it everywhere, even though he wasn't sure what caused it. He often thought it was weird. He couldn't remember other places' smells at all, never noticed them.

He walked over to her bunk and sat down, patting at his side as an invitation for T'Pol to join him. She complied and sat next to him. A minute passed before she stopped focusing on something in front of her and looked at Trip. She studied his face for a while, taking in the features which she had watched so many times before: the tiny wrinkles that formed around his eyes when he smiled, the dark blue spots in his eyes, the deep curve on his upper lip. Trip waited patiently for her, but finally he spoke.

"What are we going to do?" _No more running around_ he thought.

The first thing that crossed her mind was to ask what was he talking about, but she knew perfectly well what he meant.

"I'm not certain," she answered truthfully. "This morning when we agreed to have this conversation the circumstances were different," she continued. Soval's revelations had changed Enterprise's and her crew's future. They both knew that if Soval was right Earth would be involved in another war shortly. There wouldn't be much time for any other issues in their lives.

"So I guess we'll just…go on hold," Trip said.

"Is that what you want?" she asked him while her deep brown eyes searched his face.

"No…you?" he said while his hand covered hers, their fingers intertwining.

"I want… us… staying together," her voice was quiet almost a whisper but Trip heard her. This time he was the one amazed with the effects T'Pol had on him. Her eyes were filled with emotion – _love, maybe?_ He took several deep breaths so that his voice would return to normal and his sight would uncloud from the extra moisture in his eyes.

He moved closer and buried his face in her neck, hugging her tightly. She could feel him – overwhelmed, that's how he felt. "What is it?" she asked him and waited until Trip let go a little and spoke into her neck.

"I've missed you…so much. And now that I can hug you I'm not letting go unless you kick me." His smile brushed her neck while his deep, low voice told her how happy he was.

T'Pol didn't try to stop the slight upward turn her lips took while listening to Trip's words. She let herself smile, just a little, and return the give and take they both enjoyed so much. "I see. I must tell you that I have missed you as well, but I believe I should clarify my wishes. I do not want you to strike me in any way. Even though I'm not willing to let you go either..." she replied playfully, murmuring in his ear. He chuckled and tightened his embrace.

"Two can play this game, you know," he said.

"I know," she returned quietly while her fingers caressed Trip's neck.

"I believe we should inform Captain Archer," she told him. Trip nodded, his face still buried in her neck.

"Yeah, he deserves to know, even though he won't be pleased."

Trip knew Archer very well. The man went by the book for the most part, and when there was no book or the book didn't cover the issue at hand, he improvised. In this case the book wasn't crystal clear. Starfleet didn't forbid couples in their scientific vessels, didn't encourage them either. But in war situations a couple would be considered risky, at the very least.

"You think he will consider us a liability."

He nodded in agreement. "I would if I were the captain."

"We have served on Enterprise while having feelings for each other without endangering the ship or its crew for some time now," she said.

_Feelings for each other…_Trip thought and smiled. _I love you too, sweetie. _He kissed her neck softy before moving back and looking at her. His eyes were moist again.

"We'll have to convince him that it won't interfere with our work," he told her while touching her face with the backs of his fingers.

"Agreed." T'Pol had relaxed visibly since they'd entered her quarters and in that process her tiredness showed. She had been repressing her concern over the facts Soval had told them and her sorrow every time she remembered Elizabeth. There had been no time to meditate that day.

"You OK?" Trip asked her. He sensed her exhaustion and was pretty sure she had not stopped to rest during the day. In that regard they were the same. They could immerse themselves in work to the exclusion of everything else.

She turned her face into his hand, closed her eyes and nodded slightly. Trip remembered all those times he'd asked if she was fine – knowing she wasn't – and she'd never admitted it. But now, even though she still denied it, she didn't bother to hide it. While he moved his thumb tenderly over her cheek, his thoughts returned to the past week's events – Terra Prime, Elizabeth, the memorial, the investigation, Soval, the Romulans. _It was too damned much._

"How do Vulcans grieve?" Trip asked her. She turned and looked at him before answering.

"We meditate."

"Can I help you, somehow?"

"You're helping me now" she told him. He smiled back at her sadly.

_That's not what I meant_.

"We could meditate together," T'Pol said in a voice that was almost a whisper.

He nodded. "You'll have to teach me."

"I'll do my best," was her response. Trip just smirked at her.

T'Pol knew that Trip was as tired as she was, both emotionally and physically, but wasn't certain what he needed this time to let go of his grief and anger. Her company was soothing for him, as much as his was for her. She knew that.

"Is there anything you would want us to do together?" she asked him, her eyes on his.

Trip's eyebrows rose, his forehead wrinkled, and he bit his lower lip trying not to show what was the first thought that crossed his mind after hearing her, but he failed miserably. She read him right away and her expression was priceless. He smiled and hurried to speak up before she had a chance to say something.

"Yeah. Will you tell me about the Kirshara?"

Her eyes softened visibly. "I wasn't aware you were interested in philosophy."

"Not really, just want to spend time with you," Trip told her, still smiling teasingly.

He sobered before continuing "And I really want to understand." He felt her fingers on the side of his face and her thumb touching the underside of his mouth, tracing the thin line of skin between his stubble and his lower lip before she kissed him softly. "I guess we've got a plan," he said into her lips.

"Indeed," she said.

XVII.-

The taste of the scotch Archer offered him still lingered. Lagavulin was the brand they drank. _I'll have to see if I can get some more of it_, Lucas thought. He seldom drank. When he did, it was mostly red wine and the Pisco Sour his wife prepared superbly. His mind drifted back home, and he relived the video call they'd shared earlier. His expression changed and he smiled at his wife's memory. _Tomorrow_, he thought.

His eyes settled on the view port in his quarters. Even though space flight was something talked about almost every day on Earth it wasn't an everyday event for most of the population. He was still amazed at the sight of the stars moving along while Enterprise was on its way to Jupiter. _Fifth planet, gas giant, diameter 11 times Earth's_, he recollected the data easily. His extremely accurate memory had always been an asset.

He wondered if the members of Enterprise's crew were aware that they were making history every day they spent on duty. _Had former pioneers known this?_ he thought. _Probably not._

The talk with Archer had gone as he expected. The Captain was anxious and wanted answers. While a one-of-a-kind pilot and captain of the first Warp 5 Starship, the man was not a good interrogator, too honorable and impatient. _He doesn't have the ability to separate himself from the job that has to be done. The emotional charge this man carries must be overwhelming, _he thought.

What would their next mission get them into? Would they be able to locate the Chimera? He hoped they did. His instincts told him there was lot more to that ship and its Captain – Bern or whatever was his name – than they suspected. He had decided to inform Archer about anything he found regarding that ship. Maybe Bern was the lead they'd have to follow to get to the Terra Primers in Starfleet. He was certain that whoever had helped Paxton gain access to the DNA for the cloning process was someone from Starfleet's brass. Massaro's assignment to Enterprise was not a coincidence.

One of the disadvantages of working in Intelligence was the frustration that chasing shadows produced, at least it was for him. He remembered a saying from his time in the Intel Training programme. "There are no shadows in the dark until you throw some light on them. Just focus on finding the light."

_And the shadows will appear undefined, moving and most of the times deceiving_.

Fin


End file.
